


Threat of Frost

by Rueitae



Series: Rue's Whumptober 2019 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, F/M, Friendly Fire, Gen, Human shield, Mission Fic, Pre-Relationship, whumptober2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 36,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: My whumptober2019 prompts, using Plance for all of them! Going for under 1K words for each of them.





	1. Shakey Hands

Not a muscle in Lance’s body moves. His mind is laser focused, and his rapidly beating heart betrays the outward calm he portrays.  


It isn’t easy to do, standing with the business end of his bayard’s rifle form pointed at Commander Destek. Behind him, Destek’s sentries pointing rifles of their own at him.  


Lance has Destek’s chest in his scope, he can make the kill shot any time he wants.  


But his view isn’t clear. Green and white armor cover his vision through the scope.  


Pidge struggles, her fingers gripping wildly on Destek’s arm brace as she tries to free herself, legs flailing freely and her teeth clenched in anger.  


“Take the shot, Lance!” she yells at him. “Hurry!”

“Shoot and you’ll fatally wound the Green Paladin,” Destek tells Lance what he already knows. “Drop the bayard and surrender.”

Lance doesn’t move. If he surrenders the plan falls apart and the others get captured too. Take the shot and he risks killing Pidge.  


His hands stay steady.  


Surrender is certainty. Whether Pidge dies or not is dependent on his skill.  


Pidge’s anger morphs into a fear he rarely sees from her. Her breaths are much heavier than his, hitching as her eyes begin to water.  


His arms start to get tired. She doesn’t trust him to make the shot. The realization is like a nail gun to the heart. Pidge is never one to give out praise undeserving, he gets that but…

He thought he was better and that—

“Lance!”

The powering up of laser rifles after hearing Pidge call his name snaps Lance out of his self doubt. His bayard is lowered almost too much for this standoff. A moment longer and the sentries would have shot first.  


He renews his focus, steadies his bayard and catches Pidge’s eyes. Her mouth quivers with fear but her eyes have their familiar determined glint back.  


“Do it, Lance! This is child’s play for you!”

Destek laughs heartily, throwing his head back. “You Earthlings are cute thinking y—“

A high pitched scream. Destek falls heavy to the ground, Pidge with him. The sentries power down and clank to the metal floor of the command deck.  


Lance dissipates his bayard into his armor and runs.  


“Pidge? Pidge!? Are you okay? Talk to me!” he says desperately, sliding to his knees beside her.  


Destek is dead.  


But Pidge moans in pain and Lance is grateful because that means she’s still alive. There is a gash in her armor, right below her shoulder, blood already staining the white armor. Just a little bit lower and he’d have hit her heart.

The thought sobers him.  


He drags her off the commander. There is a hole in his chest, the bullet went right through Pidge and into him - as Lance intended and Pidge expected when she called for the shot.  


“I’m so sorry, Pidge,” he breathes.  


Pidge’s eyes clenched shut, her teeth grit in pain. “I t-told you to do it, it was our only option. I-I’ll be  _ fine _ ,” she grinds out.  


“I could have killed you,” he says quietly,  


Pidge has the audacity to laugh, though she quickly descends into groaning in pain for her movement. “No you  _ wouldn’t _ have, Lance. You never miss when it c-counts.”

Tears cloud his vision. She did think he was a good shot. He knew she trusted him after working side by side for so long as Paladins, but hearing it like this… it means more than he can express.  


He taps his comm on. “If you can can expedite the prisoner extraction that’d be great, Pidge is okay but she’ll need a pod.”

“Copy that, Lance,” Shiro responds. “We’re nearly done. Stay where you are, Keith is bringing Red around and making a shortcut to you.”

Lance sighs in relief. He adjusts Pidge to lie flat on the floor and presses his hands down on her wound to stop the bleeding.  


Crisis averted.  


His hands can’t stop shaking. 


	2. Explosion

The sound of the blast rattled in her ears. Pidge could have sworn she had just been standing, yet now the prison cell door swims in her vision and is very much sideways.   


Was her rescue party finally here?   


The door slid open and a tall figure of purple coloring stood in the doorway. Pidge couldn’t help feel a tad disappointed, she’d have liked to see one of the other Paladins - specifically Lance - first rather than one of the Blade of Marmora.   


She wasn’t picky though, not in this case. Perhaps it was for the better, every time Lance so much as collected her from a mission she felt like she was in a dollar store novel. An actual rescue would be like something out of fanfiction.   


She groaned as the figure approached, still blurry. Her ears were still ringing from the explosion and her heavy fall.   


Sharp claws dug painfully into her scalp and they pull. With her hair suddenly supporting all her weight, she screamed.   


This wasn’t a rescue.   


“You’re coming with me,” Commander Trepv snarled. “I am not losing my command because bunch of plucky  _ children _ .”

Pidge’s heart dropped to her stomach. Trepv hadn’t done much to her - yet. Only a few bruises to show from the initial interrogation, but nothing broken.   


_ Too fragile _ , he’d said.  _ Too easy to kill.   
_

It disgusted Pidge that he was right.   


But now he was cornered by her friends and he would not hold back if it spared his life.   


That terrified her.   


Pidge gasped, sudden and swift movement distorting her vision just when it’d been recovering. Multicolored dots dance in front of her and the brighter lights of the hallway force Pidge to close her eyes.   


Trepv had her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, his pauldrons digging into the non-armored parts of her Paladin uniform. His clawed hand held her ankles like a vice grip and her head bounced hard into his back due to his quickened pace. She couldn’t even brace herself, not with her hands cuffed behind her back.

Pidge thought she understood why her mother couldn’t do anything while she had a migraine.   


Another explosion goes off nearby.   


Then blessed quiet.

“Pidge!”

Warm hands caught her fall, the familiar texture of a very specific jacket encasing her. A well toned chest presses against her increasingly warming cheeks.   


Was this death? Or had she finally lost it and was actually  _ dreaming _ about Lance?   


“I’m so glad you’re okay. You really scared m— us, you scared us.”   


Pidge felt his throat inflicting on the top of her head, the vibrations so much nicer and calmer than the loud explosions.   


Then her hair felt wet and she couldn’t stay silent any longer.   


“Lance, stop salivating in my hair. It’s gross,” she groaned.   


He allowed her to push away from him. She was in a cryp-pod suit and tears flowed freely down Lance’s face as they sat on the floor together.

“Oh,” she said, because her normally high functioning mind could think of nothing more thoughtful to say.   


Lance sniffed loudly, dragging the snot back into his nose. “You were unresponsive. Big gash in the side of your head. It looked  _ really _ bad.”

Pidge found a grin. What Lance said wasn’t funny, but maybe because it came from him it made her smile. “The cryo-pods are nifty,” she said. “Or I’m dead and my afterlife is trying to make me feel better about it.”

Lance’s jaw dropped. “Pidge, don’t talk like that, you’re freaking me out.”

Pidge shrugged. “I mean, I could see Green pulling something like this in the astral plane,” she blathered, unsure why she was feeling so loose-lipped all of a sudden. “She knows I have a crush on you, so of course she put you here to see me off.”

Lance doesn’t speak, his eyes wide. A noise akin to a balloon losing air was escaping from his mouth.   


They are still close, close enough Lance had yet to let go of her completely. Close enough Pidge blushed at the mere proximity as she realizes,   


“I’m not dead, am I?”

The Green Lion rumbled affectionately in her head in affirmation.   


Pidge’s cheeks become inflamed as if fireworks have gone off inside them. “Oh quiznack.”


	3. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: open ending
> 
> delirium, human test subject, forced drug intake

Another slap. Lance’s cheeks feel like they are on fire, the friction of the Dr. Cerat’s hand against his skin is like a match to kindle.   


“Pay attention, Paladin,” she snarls. “What do you see? Do you hear the Lions?”

Lance groans, opening his eyes to glare daggers as he rights his head to face her.   


“Just your ugly mug,” he leans forward as far as his bonds allow to spit in response. The Lions have been gone for years. Red hasn’t been in his mind since their goodbye that night the Lions left.   


Cerat won’t take that as an acceptable answer.

The doctor twitches her nose unpleasantly. “Increase the dosage,” she orders. A pink liquid drips from the IV into his veins. Lance can't do a thing about it.   


His fingers itch for freedom. Though he’s already tried break free to no avail, he strains his biceps to pull up anyway, doing everything he can do avoid taking this unknown drug. Like every other time, they remain shackled to each armrest of the thick, metal chair he’s strapped to. His ankles are similarly clamped down at the footrest.   


If not for the bottles of chemical on the table next to him, Lance might have thought he’d be having a dinner date. The aroma of a seasoned steak fills the air, making his stomach rumble. The doctor has a fine plate and a glass of wine.   


Ready to watch the show. Him.   


He just wants to go home. Pidge  _ needs _ him and—

A green blade sticks itself in Cerat’s stomach.   


“Lance! Hold on!”

Pidge rushes to his side, dressed head to toe in Paladin armor. Lance lets out a sigh of relief when she unlocks his restraints and he takes her into the tightest hug when he’s free.   


Something feels different. Off.   


He stumbles back, panic growing in his chest. “You’re not pregnant,” he says. Because she absolutely was the last time he saw her. “D-did something happen? Have I been gone for that long?”

Pidge grins. Not her usual one that says she knows something he doesn’t, or the one after she makes a pun. No, this one is downright evil.   


“I’m not Pidge,” she says. “You’re hallucinating, Lance.”

Dr. Cerat walks towards him with her evil grin as the image of Pidge scatters away like dust in the wind.   


Lance is back in the chair, his heart pounds in his ears and tears well up in his eyes.

This nightmare isn’t over.   


“Finally some progress,” Cerat says in relief. “Increase to half the bottle. That should keep him submerged longer.”

She looks at him directly, her grin wicked. “Soon I will have all the data I need on the Paladin bond.”


	4. Human Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> burning flesh mention (otherwise canon typical violence), human shield, mission fic
> 
> For the actual Day 4 prompt 'Gunpoint', see the fic 'To Hold' that is the next in the series. It was long enough I decided to make it a separate fic.

Another two Galra sentry fall to Lance’s shot. He allows himself a moment to breathe, but then his eyes lock once more to the open door of the command deck, his ears listening for clanking footsteps.  


For now, only methodical typing.  


“How much longer, Pidge?”

The typing doesn’t cease. “Gnav is no joke, he’s got a decent firewall on his supply lines. I’ve got it, but it’ll take another five doboshes,” she says.  


“You’ll have them,” he promises.  


Pidge chuckles. “Not even asking for a reward today? You must be feeling generous.”

Lance grins, but never takes his eyes off the door. “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll be overcome by my heroism and kiss me anyway.”

Though his back is to her, he can feel Pidge rolling her eyes. “Dream on, Lance. I’m not that easy.”  


“Not even an exception for your fiancé?” he teases.  


“Especially not you,” she quips. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”

A warm feeling bubbles in his heart, smile stuck to his face. Until his ears wiggle, the sound of clanking metal on metal in the near distance - getting closer.  


Lance frowns and sets his blaster at the ready. He needs to protect Pidge - his teammate, friend, and bride-to-be - for another four doboshes.  


And he will by any means necessary.  


The sentries go down one after the other, flooding into the room in a never ending cascade. Pidge never stops working. Lance barely has a moment between shots.  


The sentries become numerous enough to shoot back at him. Lance sweats from the heat of the purple blaster fire - or perhaps it’s simply the fact he’s being shot at and not how nervous he’s getting.

He can’t and won’t move. Not when he’s the only thing blocking Pidge from harm.  


A lucky shot flings the red bayard from his hands. In an instant anger, frustration, and fear course through his veins. Moving isn’t an option so Lance calls it back to him, forming a sword just in time to slice down diagonally on an approaching sentry, cutting it clean in half.  


“30 ticks!” Pidge calls out. “Then they’re mine! Hang on, Lance!” Her voice is desperate, hinging on hysteria.  


Lance growls as he defeats two more sentries. His arms feel like wet noodles, muscles burning from strain. “I won’t let them touch you,” he swears. “Finish the program!”  


“20 ticks!”

Three sentries overpower him. For the first time since setting foot in the room Lance turns to face Pidge.  


Her back is to him, hyper focused on her work.  


Lance drapes himself over her back with ten ticks to go. He covers her head with his arms and for ten agonizing ticks the sentries slice and hack away at his back, his arms, his butt, his legs. There’s a searing pain on his left thigh. He shifts his weight to his right.   


Pidge isn’t touched, and that’s all he cares about.  


Like a light switch, the sentries stop and fall to the ground.  


His legs are weak and he falls, the pain already lessened considerably. The smell of burning flesh reaches his nose and it makes him sick knowing it’s his own.  


“Lance!” Pidge is hovering over him. It looks as if she’s crying, but his own vision is so blurred he can’t quite tell.  


“Are you hurt, Pidge?” He has to know if he succeeded.  


Pidge glares, biting down angrily on her lip. “Not even a scratch, you idiot. I’ll call for backup. Hang in there.”

Lance grins and he knows how stupid it looks because Pidge likes to affectionately inform him off it all the time.  


“I kept my promise,” he lazily. “Can I have that kiss now?”

Pidge huffs. “Only if you promise not to die.”

With great effort, Lance lifts his sore arm to his chest, making an ‘x’ with his pinky. “Cross my heart.”

Lance lies limp as Pidge leans over to kiss him tenderly on the lips. Who needed a cryo-pod when he has this?


	5. Dragged Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dragon, captivity, sacrifice, fantasy au, unresolved/open ending

_ Disposable _ , that’s what the village elders had said.   


Pidge shivers, from both anger at their words and the biting cold that nips at her arms. Early fall down in the valley is still warm, where her family still loves her and is mourning her even now. They’d tried everything they could think of to spare her this fate - Matt going so far as to try to take her place - to no avail. She wasn’t about to let him do that.   


The top of Storm Mountain is as cold and unforgiving as the legends. Pidge holds her arms and curls in on herself as a gust of wind numbs her fingertips.   


Better to be cold than dead.   


The master of this land demanded a sacrifice and Pidge is it.   


Unmarried and too smart and headstrong for her own good (apparently), she was nearly everyone’s first pick as the dragon’s main course.   


She hated them all anyway, even before they tore her from her father’s arms and dragged her halfway up the mountain with nothing but the clothes on her back.

Sitting on this stone, Pidge has clear sight of the entrance to the dragon’s lair. He can hardly exit without seeing her. It’s the right stone, the only one stained red with blood.   


To escape would be to take the only walkable path down the mountain, back to the village that sent her, or fall to her death on the jagged cliffs. Death from the dragon would be equally swift, and she’d at least spare someone else from this fate for a time.   


That someone could be Matt. The village would do it just to be vindictive, she’s sure of it.   


The wind stirs around her and a shadow looms above. The great beast himself lands with an earth shattering thump. Pidge falls from the stone to the rocky trail, heart clenching in terror. The beasts wings are larger than several grain storage buildings and his body a shimmering silver that almost allows him to blend in with the snow that layers the peak.   


He turns and lowers his head towards her, a few sharp teeth showing in his underbite. Pidge gasps in short, shallow breaths, hardly able to breath as his snout comes close enough for her to touch and his gaze bores into her own.   


She can’t find the will to break away.   


But she can find the will to be angry.   


“Well, here I am,” she shouts. No sooner than she does the beast takes in a deep breath, air zooming past her and into the nostrils that are twice her size. Fear takes root in her heart once more, but she presses on with a gulp and tries her best fearless face - though she’s sure its ruined with tears in her eyes. “Are you going to eat me now?”

A heavy silence fills the air. The dragon’s firey breath warming the chilly mountain air around her.   


“ _ Are you a virgin _ ?” the dragon finally asks, his deep voice so serious and ancient.   


Pidge isn’t sure if this is a test or not. “Why?” she dares. “Do virgins taste better?”

A low growl shakes the ground and Pidge breaks her gaze as he demands, “ _ Answer the question, human _ .”

“Y-yes,” Pidge answers before she can regret it. Without any information to go on, she might as well go with the truth lest it finds her in trouble later.

She hates the implication behind his question though and isn’t sure death is the worse option.

“ _ Then you live. For now _ .”

The confirmation gives Pidge new life. She stumbles and stands, fists clenched in rage. “I’m not going to be your plaything!” she declares.   


The dragon raises his head and before Pidge knows it, his claws descends on her position.   


She makes a run for it. To where, she doesn’t know, but she will  _ not  _ let this beast have his way with her.   


Pidge screams when claws fold in around her and her feet leave the ground. Her legs flail in mid air and the dragon takes her away from her spot on the stone.   


Inside the cave is warm and in her struggle to free herself Pidge can already feel the numbness of her limbs retreat. But warm means she may never escape this place and can’t find the peace of mind to relish in it.   


She’s dropped onto something soft. A bed. Oh Ancients, not already.   


When she looks up, the dragon towers over her still, but across the bed from her is a human boy, his jaw hung loose like she’s sure her’s is. His skin is a darker complexion than her - that she can tell even in the low torchlight - so he must be from much further away. He’s dressed in an odd mix of clothing fit for a king and the rags of a peasant.   


“ _ Get along, slaves _ ,” the dragon says before he saunters away.   


The boy speaks first, though it's clear he’s unsure what to say. “I’m Lance.” He gulps and looks away nervously. “I’ve, uh, been here for a few years. Food is decent and the work isn’t too bad. It’ll go faster with two of us now.” He laughs humorlessly, deep into his rambling now. “Draknor is picky about cleaning the gold, I’m still not through the entire treasure room and the clothes are a pain to wash even though I’m the only one who can actually wear them and--”

“I’m Pidge,” she interrupts, mouth hanging limp and dry. Her brain is still processing everything, but she gets the gist of it now. The dragon wants a partner for Lance - who seems about as surprised to see her as she is to see him.   


The  _ principle  _ of being match-made by an evil dragon makes her skin crawl. There will be no romance here. Not on her watch. 


	6. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> captivity

Pale yellow permutations ripple outwards from where Pidge’s fist meets the wall. She snarls, not for the first time.

“Let me out! I’ll corrupt your hard drives, all of you!”

Her crystalline captors pay her no mind. They come and go from their perches, nests of rainbow colored circuitry that cover rows upon rows in this underground colosseum, Pidge trapped at the very bottom in her small enclosure. The roof is open and the sky is clear as the Vibeti float effortlessly and without sound. Their bird-like wings are merely for show - or perhaps more likely, Pidge grumbles - were discarded when they became more machine than living being.   


It would be a beautiful night if she were free, with her friends, and could hear the Green Lion.

Pidge slumps against one of the four sides and slides down, resting her elbows to her knees. She covers her ears with her hands.   


The silence is deafening in here and her heart beats faster in nervousness every tick that goes by without sound. They’d all gotten used to their Lions and roving around in each others heads. Now that Pidge is without Green’s comforting presence, she feels more alone now than during her friendless middle school days.   


For all that she’s been learning about being a part of the universe, its torturous to suddenly feel wholly removed from it.   


She hopes the others can find her soon because Pidge isn’t sure she can take much more of it.   


“You’re fine, Pidge,” she tells herself, though her unconvincing voice betrays her optimism. “Just keep talking. You’re good at that.”

She takes a deep breath.   


“The others have to know you’re missing by now. Lance was due to come by any dobosh, he’d know something was wrong,” she reasons.   


Lance has a habit of never leaving her alone for more than a varga. Unless Coran has him assigned to maintenance tasks, he pops into the lab, asks if she needs help, and usually talks about his day and after that he listens to her problem-solve out loud.   


He’s good company for not knowing what she’s talking about half the time.   


“I’m sorry for every time I glared at you to stop talking,” she says with a sniffle. “I miss your goofy smile. I like it when you drag me in for a hug. I love it when you tell me how amazing I’m doing - because  _ you’re _ amazing too uplifting m-everyone all the time.”

Pidge fiddles with her fingers, dropping her head back against the wall. “Careful, Katie. Your crush is showing,” she moans, heat pounding in her cheeks.   


_ “Crush? What crush? Is Pidge crushing something?” _

Pidge blinks in surprise. Surely she’s losing it if she’s thinking in Allura’s voice now.

The distinct roar of the Green Lion rocks her cell, shattering the glass as she descends into the pit.

Pidge stands, gleeful and heart light. The noises of the planetary nightlife surround her like a grand orchestra, the breeze whistling down to her. It feels good to be part of the universe again.   


“I knew you’d find me!” she shouts joyfully.

“ _ Good to see you, Pidge, _ ” Hunk says over the comm. “ _ See, Lance, she’s totally fine. _ ”

Pidge grins though her heart skips a beat. “Aww, you were worried about me, Lance?” she teases.

_ “I knew she would be! _ ” he practically squawks. Pidge can feel his indignation.   


“ _ Then what was the crushing all about? _ ” Allura interjects.   


Pidge swears her heart stops. Suddenly, she wishes she were still imprisoned. “...how much did you guys hear over the Paladin bond?”

“ _ Enough that Lance probably blends in with the Red Lion right now _ ,” Keith says dryly.  _ “Let’s go. We still have to take out that Galra cruiser. _ ”

A sound more akin to a dying animal escapes Pidge’s lips as she remains rooted to the ground. Green, the traitor, practically chuckles through their bond as she scoops down and collects Pidge into her mouth.    
This was going to be the most awkward Form Voltron  _ ever _ . 


	7. Stab Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blood, sacrifice

Lance looks both ways twice before he enters the clearing in the woods. He tugs his robes closer and shivers. It’s late at night with a full moon illuminating the sky, perfect for practicing his magic. But it’s also so cold and he  _ hates _ the cold.   


Not for the first time, he curses his luck having been born with magic. Rejuvenation magic of all things! He loathes the impasse in his life. Stay at home and he either becomes the pawn of King Zarkon or killed for existing. Help the war effort (if conquering the known world can be called that, it’s more a war machine) or he’s wasting space and a liability if found by any number of Zarkon’s enemies.   


Lance doesn’t want either, so he ran away.   


He knows his family understands, and his siblings had even encouraged this option… but he misses them terribly. A hermits life is something he is not suited to. He wants the bustle of the city, the gossip of the town and the rambling of his siblings. He’s used to a full house with people coming and going and doting on his young niece and nephew...

At least the nearby villagers have stopped trying to kill him. Creating the illusion that he was a man-eating monster had done wonders for his privacy. Zarkon won’t be able to sniff him out this far away from the capital.   


A light breeze brings the faint scent of blood. Lance sniffs discerningly. It isn't an animal - it’s definitely human. Urgh, probably a dumb kid on a dare - caught in a trap.   


Well, he can’t not help. Hopefully swear the kid to secrecy.   


As the scent gets stronger, Lance’s gut clenches in unease. No one is calling for help. Something is really wrong.   


A freshly cut stump lies at the edge of the clearing, on the side of the forest the village is. There is something -  _ someone _ \- on it.   


Lance has seen a lot of gruesome sights as a healer. Fixing people doesn’t mean he doesn’t forget what they looked like before.   


The unconscious young woman is dressed in the most beautiful green nightgown - not nearly enough cloth to be wearing right now - but the dagger embedded in her stomach stains it red. Rope binds her wrists and ankles to stakes in the ground.   


She was placed here intentionally, left to bleed out in the cold of the night so she’d be weak, but still warm for… for...

For the man-eating monster. For him.. A sacrifice.   


“Oh, Ancients above,” Lance breathes in horror.   


He checks her vitals first. Her hands are cold, but she still has a weak pulse. He can save her.   


Lance kneels beside her, placing one hand on the hilt of the dagger and the other gently on her belly up against the blade.   


Like so many times before, a light filament of pale blue forms around his hands. It’s warm and soothing tonight, instead of its usual cool and refreshing. Slowly, he lifts the dagger out of her.   


The woman stirs, face distorting in discomfort, but does not wake.   


Dried blood and torn fabric remain, but her wound is closed off now, skin as smooth as a baby’s bottom.   


He uses the dagger to cut her free from the rope and then takes her into his arms, huffing slightly at the exerted energy of healing and picking her up.   


He can’t take her back to the village. They’d kill her. He can’t leave her, she’ll die.   


“Well, Lance, you wanted company,” he sighs in self admonishment and walks home.   


~~~

She wakes with a terrified gasp later that day, in turn waking  _ him _ .   


Lance snorts, head jolting up in surprise from his small wooden desk.

Her large amber eyes stare at him in astonishment and fear. She holds his favorite blanket up against her chest protectively.   


_ She _ probably had a good nights sleep in his bed while he slept at the hard desk.   


“You didn’t eat me.”   


It’s a statement, but she makes it sound like a question. Probing him - calmly searching for a hypothesis.   


“No, I didn’t,” Lance says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, resting his tired head on the palm of his hand. If she’s to be stuck with him there’s no need for secrets. “And I never plan to. There is no monster, just regular old human me. It’s Lance, by the way.”

Her jaw hangs low and despite his promise not to eat her, she holds the blanket even closer. “You saved my life.” Another statement, her eyes lighting up with understanding. “You’re a mage.”

“Barely,” he acknowledges as he stands, stretching out his aches from the poor sleep. “It’s not exactly a glamorous existence. You hungry? I don’t have much in the way of choice, but you’re welcome to as much as you’d like.”

He’s barely finished the sentence before she responds -

“Teach me.”

Lance nearly stumbles on his way to the cabinet. “I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?”

Her eyes flicker with sadness as she averts her gaze, as if lost in memory. “I have the Spark too,” she tells him, naming the term for those who have the capability to use magic, but hadn’t yet found their specialty. Lance himself had found his by accident, healing his sister’s scraped knee when he was ten. “That’s why I was picked as the sacrifice. No one wants Zarkon anywhere near the village.

“But I  _ want  _ to learn,” she continues, her gaze now determined as it falls back on him. “I want to know why me, why  _ you _ , why only certain people have this.”

Lance sighs. He’d always been curious about that himself, but dodging Zarkon’s men had always come before knowledge. This was going to be a pain.   


“Well, it’s not like I can let you go back to the village,” he says with a long sigh. “I suppose I can tell you what I’ve picked up.” He extends a hand. “Welcome to a hermits life, …?”   


“Pidge,” she says with a smile, taking his hand. “I’m looking forward to it.”


	8. Shackled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the most dangerous game trope/humans treated as prey/hunted, threat of forced sexual activity - nothing explicit and nothing happens just the possibility of it happening is discussed in the second half of the fic, threat of death, unresolved ending, hopeful ending, pre-relationship, ill-timing confessions

“No luck?” Lance airs dejectedly, shoulders slumped.  


The iron remains firmly locked around his wrist… as well as the one on Pidge’s wrist, with the chain connecting them just as solid as when he’d checked when they woke.  


Pidge huffs and pulls, tugging him towards her a couple steps. “I’d be nice if I had some tools. Doesn’t look like we’re going to find anything more high tech than a stick out here.”

A forest of purple trees with white flowers both above and at ground level cover the area as far as Lance can see. “What the quiznak is this place?” he wonders, straining his neck towards the canopy.  


“I don’t know,” Pidge admits, her tone carrying a hint of early panic to it. “I have a bad feeling we haven’t seen the last of that bounty hunter, though.”

Lance gulps hard. They’d failed in their first attempt to escape their captor - the last thing Lance remembers is that wickedly evil grin before succumbing to unconsciousness. Waking up in this forest was the last thing he’d expected, though preferable to that awful dark holding cell.  


But he’s so grateful that he and Pidge aren’t separated, even if its literal. He’d be in a worried panic over her well being otherwise.  


“I’ve played video games like this,” Lance says with sickening feeling in his stomach. And watched movies too, where humans become the prey. “We should find some high ground, and something we can use as a weapon.”

Pidge’s eyes flicker with understanding. “What do you think he’ll do to us when he catches us?”

“ _ That depends on how entertaining the two of you are. _ ”  


Lance yelps at the suddenness of the bounty hunter’s voice, taken off guard - as is Pidge by her cry of surprise. His foot slips on the dewy ground and the next moment the bones in his butt tingle in pain when he lands squarely on the earth, his back finding a nearby tree trunk.

No sooner than Lance opens his eyes he sees Pidge falling right into him. Their screams match as he haphazardly catches her and she joins him on the ground, head in his chest.

They are still, of course, connected by the shackles.  


Static. “ _ If that is the best the Paladins of Voltron can offer then you’ll hardly be worth the trophy I seek. _ ”

“Then let us go, you jerk!” Pidge growls to the sky, though her free hand remains on his breastplate. It’s hard to tell where the bounty hunter’s voice is coming from when they can’t see head or tail of him (literally - he has the bushiest tail that Lance mistakenly thought was an actual dog. How wrong he’d turned out to be).

A hardened chuckle fills the air. “ _ If you do not provide me a thrilling chase, I will hand one of you over to the Galra and kill the other. Keep me entertained and I’ll keep you both alive for myself. The stock of two chosen by Voltron Lions would make for an excellent apprentice. _ ”

All color has drained from Pidge’s face. Lance’s own heart beats irregularly in horror, gut twisting unpleasantly. Had… had he just heard that right? He wanted their kid? A kid of himself and Pidge?

An actual honest to goodness human  _ child _ ? Pidge would be a mom. The mother of  _ his _ kid.  


He and Pidge would…

There was no need to unpack all of this right now. First thing first - ensure both of them survive.

“You’re s-sick,” Lance manages to say, though just the though has his brain absolutely fried.

“ _ I’m thinking of my future,”  _ the bounty hunter tells him. _ “I take my opportunities when I can get them. _ ” A pause. “ _ I am giving the two of you a twenty-four varga head start, then I land and begin the hunt. Survive for another twenty-four varga after that and I’ll change from my blaster to my stunner. Outwit me for an additional three quintants or longer and you’ll keep your lives and become my slaves. _ ”

Lance gulps deeply. “I don’t suppose there’s any situation where you’ll just… let us go?”

The bounty hunter breaks into uproarious laughter.

“ _ I personally hope you put up a good hunt, I look forward to the pleasure of your servitude. _

“ _ Your time begins  _ now _ . _ ”

The speaker switches to static briefly, and then silence. Otherwise, there is no indication of their start time.  


Lance takes in a deep breath. There was still a good chance the rest of the team could pick up the breadcrumb trail of what happened to them. Still, they’d have to play this sick game in the meantime so the team could hope to find them alive.  


The single sun is right above them and Lance decides its noon. “Okay, so at least we can tell time.”

Then it occurs to Lance that they don’t know what planet they are on, much less if it has a twenty-four varga day. He waits for Pidge to correct him… but it never comes.  


She shakes in his arms, staring at the ground.  


The bounty hunter’s threat must have really gotten to her.  


“I’m not going to let him do anything to you,” Lance promises swiftly. “We just have to survive until the others find us. Hunk is nosy enough I bet he’ll find the antique tech store we were in and Keith  _ will  _ get answers.”

A deep breath. “I know,” she says curtly. “It’s not life or death I’m worried about - that’s normal.” The sarcasm laced in her tone makes Lance bite his lip. It shouldn’t be normal. “It’s… what he wants to use us for.”

“Like I said, I’m not going to let him touch you,” Lance insists.

Pidge turns to him, her gaze hard. “It’s not him I’m worried about.” She shuts her eyes tightly, as she takes shuttered breaths, almost scared to speak. “I know you’d never hurt me intentionally but…”

His brain shatters into a million pieces and firey anger rises in his belly. “It’s not coming to that,” he says. “It isn’t - we’re not - “ Lance can’t find the words to describe how he feels. He’ll do everything he can to protect her - as she would him. “He can’t make us--”

“It’s an eventuality we still have to prepare for,” Pidge interrupts, more stone faced this time. She stands clumsily, dragging him up with her. “We have to survive at least five quintants. Better find some shelter. Food and water would be nice too.”

Lance’s stomach rumbles in agreement but his mind is elsewhere as they start walking side by side. “Look, what he said is bothering me too. You’re smart and we can both act pretty good, we can fake it if it comes to that.”

Pidge stops, turning to face him on a dime, rage etched on her features. “And if he sees right through us? We’d actually have to... I don’t want to be scared of you, Lance,  _ I love you! _ ”

Hazel eyes widen, realizing she’s revealed the most secret of secrets. Even as stunned as he is, Lance instinctively knows this is something that he was never intended to hear.  


And his first reaction is that he’s bothered by the fact he was never supposed to know.

Cat out of the bag, Pidge’s lip wobbles, and she takes in a deep breath before continuing. “ _ Maybe _ someday I’d like to be married and have kids and I admit  _ sometimes  _ I entertain the thought that it would be with you,” she rambles quickly, refusing to look at him - until now, with bright and earnest eyes. “But you’re my friend and my teammate first - I don’t want… something like this to spoil that.”

Lance isn’t sure what to even say. He’s flustered and flattered at the same time that Pidge ponders a future in which he features prominently, as his burning cheeks inform him. He doesn’t hate the idea of Pidge’s dreams, in fact he warms up to it more with each passing tick.  


He takes her shaking hand, at least to show her he doesn’t hate her or something.  


He still can’t think of anything to say. So he repeats what he’s already said.

“I won’t let you get hurt,” he begins, and words finally start to come as his heart rate accelerates. “Maybe there’s a day you do become an awesome mom and  _ maybe _ I’m there too, but right now? I’m not going to let that jerk get any sick satisfaction out of us. I swear, Pidge.” He squeezes her hand. “Do you trust me?”

There are tears in her eyes, but no longer is she anger, just tired looking as she squeezes his hand back. “I trust you with my  _ life _ .”

“And I trust you with mine,” he continues, breaking into his stupidest grin that he knows she secretly adores. It only widens when he gets the appropriate twitch upwards from Pidge’s mouth, the beginnings of a smile. “And I know you’re going to figure out a way to get us out of here anyway so there’s no use worrying about it. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Pidge sniffs and wipes the tears from her eyes. “First we need a plan. Want to climb a tree and see what we can see?”

“Now we’re talking! I bet there’s a world record for tree climbing while stuck to another person - like a three legged race! Except… this is a three armed climb?”

Pidge bursts out laughing. It relaxes Lance to see her not as terrified. They can do this if they work together. “Too bad we’re not on Earth, they’ll never count it.”

“Then we’ll have to make a universe-wide record!” Lance says in determination. “Come on, Pidge, let’s do this.”

When they eventually make it all the way up the tree, even cuffed together, and locate an area of gently rolling hills and what looks like a stream, Lance knows they’ll make it.

He’ll make sure they do, because he decides he wants to find out if he really might be part of Pidge’s future.


	9. Unconscious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> superhero au, kidnapping, accidental drugging

_ Dude, I just got off a 12-hr O.R. shift. I’m tired.   
_

_ I’ll make it up to you. Please. This is important.   
_

_ … only because you’re my friend. You owe me BIG. _

_ Thank you   
_

Lance sets the pager down on his tiny kitchen table, tearing the mask off his face and tossing it atop the device.   


Wait. He looks over at the lump of unconscious human on his couch. Pidge could wake up at any time in her condition.   


Lance pulls it back over his face. He’d best keep it on, even in his own home.   


She twists in a fit, face scrunched up in discomfort, as if she were having a terrible dream. Grinding his teeth, Lance growls. For all he knows that’s exactly what’s happening. After all, the chemical was meant for  _ him _ .   


Always two steps ahead of the law… until  _ she  _ showed up. Now he’s lucky to escape detection on most days. This is his third apartment in the last two months.   


“The question is,” Lance ponders as he lays a blanket on top of her, “is who are you.”

Her mask is right there. All he has to do is take it off her face, snap a picture, and do some research. If he’s feeling lucky, he waits until she wakes up and he can demand the information from her directly. He’d have blackmail and safety to hunt for his parent’s murderers in peace.   


First things first. He drags a chair over from the table and sits at her side. Stretching his hand over her, the space beneath hands begin to glow a pale blue.   


Heart rate slightly accelerated. Minor bruising. Seasonal allergies. All of her current ailments and entire medical history is now at his disposal, the same powers that help him save lives in the operating room.

She has no serious injuries right now in any case.   


Lance shouldn’t feel a twinge of guilt, after all she’d been trying to capture him and inflict this very fate on him but…   


He places his hand on her head, the soft blue glow pouring from his hand to her temples. Almost instantly her face relaxes. Her dreams should be much more pleasant now.   


A deep breath. Moment of truth. There is no way he can pass up this opportunity.   


But he’s nervous. He and Pidge have always had an up and down relationship. One moment she’s trying to capture him, the next they’re enjoying mimosas together on the hospital roof.   


All that ends with his knowledge of her true identity. It’s not his to take, it feels wrong, like an invasion of privacy.   


Lance narrows his eyes and steels himself. “She’d take off your mask without hesitation,” he tells himself.   


Before he can talk himself back out of it, he gently removes her mask.   


He regrets it instantly.   


Pidge is Katie Holt, the cute girl he teases down in IT.   


The one who gave him access to the video footage to prove his parents’ deaths wasn't an accident.   


The one he keeps pestering for more information because she has the technological know-how to find it.   


Even as guilt eats away at his heart, he can’t go back now. Looks like he and Katie are both going to be taking some time off from work.   


Because he’s not letting her go until he finds whoever ‘H’ is, even if he has to be an actual villain to do it.


	10. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> captured, imprisoned for study, non sexual nudity

It’s not actually funny.   


But Lance can’t stop laughing. Here, sitting in the cockpit of the Blue Lion, broken console crackling with electricity, he’s literally dead in the water.   


What was that phrase? Laughing so hard he’d need stitches?

The tractor beam filters his view of the planet, everything now in shades of pink. That’s funny too, pink flora. Almost as funny as the dark pink the Galra use to decorate their ships. He usually associates the color with his niece’s dollhouse, not furry purple murder aliens.   


Chosen by sentient mechanical cats that form a robot man through the power of teamwork and friendship - this entire adventure has been incredulous, and that’s funny too.   


He laughs so hard tears form in his eyes when a group of Galra soldiers approach Blue in the safety of their hangar. With them is a much smaller figure in cuffs, dressed in the same clothing they’d found Shiro in that fateful day on Earth, though a green rag covers her chest among the sea of purple.   


They hold a blaster to her back. The message is clear, they’ll kill Pidge if he won’t come out.   


Keeping all the Paladins alive is preferable to Zarkon, Lance knows, but he’s also sure they wouldn’t mourn her death.   


It is funny how much he loves her, after never flirting with her for most of their early days, never anticipating she might really love him like… not like a teammate, like someone who wants and seeks out his time and attention. Now he thrives off her presence, her calm rationale, her hand in his.   


Maybe that’s why he got caught. He misses Pidge too much.   


He isn’t sure at what point he stopped laughing and started crying, ribs hurting as he desperately takes in raked breaths.   


Lance isn’t ready to meet his captors, but with Pidge’s life on the line he has little choice.   


Forcing himself to put on a brave face, he stumbles down Blue’s ramp with his hands held up in surrender.   


Two of the commander’s subordinates are on him in an instant, dragging his wrists into cuffs behind his back.   


“A pleasure for you to join us, Paladin,” the Galra he supposes is the commander says pridefully. “Your accommodations have already been prepared,” he smirks cruelly. “You’ll have a chance to _clean_ _up_ before meeting Commander Livik.”

Lance isn’t sure he likes the way he says that. Especially not with the way Pidge looks like she wants to say something - something very important.  


Pidge is prodded on in front of him as he’s dragged and pushed down the long hallways. She never looks back at him, which Lance both understands considering the situation, but doesn’t make it hurt less.   


He can’t imagine what she’s already been through. How long has she been captured? Are any of the others here?

They come to a stop in front of a thick metal door with the largest latch he’s ever seen. No sooner than the sentry has opened it, Lance is shoved in, landing face first onto the… the…

The carpet?

The feeling of rug burn is unmistakable, having been the recipient of it so many times as a kid.   


Lance is sitting up by the time the door closes. To his joy, Pidge is here. It’s just the two of them.   


“You’re okay,” he breathes, unable to help a smile.   


It’s only then her lower lip wobbles and her eyes brim with tears. In a moment she’s on her knees, arms wrapped tightly around him.   


“I’ve been so scared for you,” she hiccups. “I’m so sorry.”

Lance chuckles. “What do you have to be sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong, Pidge.”   


Pidge drags in a sniffle. “It is my fault. Commander Livik used my codes to lure you in. I was such an idiot!” she cries. “He gave me the terminal on purpose and it worked. I hate that you’re here.”

Eyes heavy, he closes them and rests his head in the crook of her neck. “Maybe it's for the better,” he says and dares to plant the tiniest of kisses on her collarbone. “I was nearly out of supplies, and now I can be with you.”   


She holds him closer and almost seems to sob harder. “I wish you weren’t here but… I’m also so glad it’s you.”

An unpleasant knot begins to twist in Lance’s stomach. He has the distinct feeling he’s missing something. “Pidge,” he begins softly, an appropriately somber tone. “What don’t I know?”

Pidge gulps, squeezing a fistful of his black undersuit. “We don’t have much time. He’ll be upset if you aren’t ready in time. Livik will let you fight some battles, but this one isn’t worth it, trust me.”

Lance watches carefully as Pidge stands and walks across the room. This is no prison cell, it’s an elaborate suite fit for the captain of the ship. Something isn’t right - but Pidge seems to know, and he has no problem trusting her.   


“What am I getting ready for, exactly?” Lance ponders.

“Dinner,” Pidge responds before walking into an adjoining room and turning on the lightswitch. Moments later, water begins to flow.   


A bath.   


“He’s going to ask you a question,” Pidge says when she emerges. “And if he doesn’t like your answer he’ll kill you.”

Finally, something Lance expected - though it still makes his heart skip a beat. “He asked you the question too, didn’t he?”

Pidge nods. “I told him I hated him and that I was going to kill him,” she recites, eyes closed as if remembering. “For stealing mine and everyone else’s futures.”

She holds her arms, eyes downcast and shivering. “So he said he wanted to see what my future looked like, and ever since I’ve been doing menial tasks around the ship, waiting until he finds another Paladin.”

“Okay, that sounds about right,” Lance nods, impressed with Pidge’s passion and guts as usual. “What am I supposed to say?” he asks.   


Pidge pauses before answering, which doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, but he still trusts her, even if she isn’t looking at him when she says, “The truth, whatever your truth is.”

She helps him out of his cuffs (she was trusted with a key, and Lance is really feeling uneasy now) and then his armor. He appreciates it, as Blue’s rough landing made him very sore - accentuated now that the adrenaline is leaving his body.   


“You’re injured, I’ll help,” Pidge insists, though he doesn’t miss her bright red face - and he’s sure it isn’t because of the steam as hot water fills the tub.

“You don’t have to,” he tells her. While proud of his physique, something about Pidge seeing him naked stirs the blood in his cheeks.

Pidge gulps. “I should.”

Lance isn’t going to argue with her, but he gets the feeling she’s doing this for more than out of her own good will. He just hates how tense they both are. The suite and the bath make it all feel less like captivity and more like a honeymoon.

And that makes Lance nervous.   


He gets in the water quickly, for Pidge’s sake, even if his bruises protest the entire time. Pidge has a washcloth and soap and starts with his shoulders.   


“Are you… comfortable?” she asks after a while.   


“Are you?” he retorts when he voice betrays she clearly isn’t. “Pidge, what does Livik want from us?”

Her hands start shaking. “I always hoped that after the war we could date like normal people,” Pidge says. “I could meet your family, and you could properly meet mine. Then if it works out we could have a nice wedding and just be together then maybe have…”

Pidge can’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to at that point. Lance gets it.   


Despite the warm bathwater, a cold shiver shoots up through his arms. Suddenly, he feels very ill. “Why? What could he possibly have to gain from us… together?”

“Leverage,” Pidge begins as she rubs the soaped cloth over his chest and down his sides. The analytical tone she takes makes him feel as though he’s thrown into another reality. “Entertainment, slave labor, scientific study,” she continues, speaking quicker and quicker. “He’s a ruthless commander, but he likes knowledge. I spend a part of every day talking to him while he takes notes on human behavior.” A deep breath. “With you here, his studies will begin again in earnest and he doesn’t care. We’re just  _ lab rats _ to him - he has an entire prison full of different species from across the universe on his planetary base and--”

Lance grabs her hand in his, squeezing it tight. He stares into the foamy water as Pidge rests her forehead on the back of his neck, breathing heavily.

He’s sick with the knowledge she’s had to live with him for so long, in these conditions. It isn’t the dirty prison cell that he expected, but Lance has a terrible feeling that this might be worse.

“Whatever happens,” he promises, “I’m staying with you, Pidge. Don’t forget it. We’ll stay alive and get out of here somehow, find the others and save the Lions.”

“I’m holding you to that,” she whispers. “We’re Paladins of Voltron, don’t ever forget it, no matter what we have to do.”

A well of pride surges in his heart. Blue may be beaten up, but he’s still her Paladin, and with him and Pidge, surely they’ll devise the most brilliant scheme to escape.   


“I love you, Pidge,” he says, pivoting around so he can see her. “I meant it before and I mean it now.” He takes a soaking hand and cups her cheek, the water on his hand merging with the tears in her eyes. She’s so close to breaking here and it kills him - she needs this reminder of her humanity more than he. “You’re the smartest person I know, brave and selfless and loyal and fun. I’d marry you right now if I could.”

She wraps him in a big hug. “I hate that this is everything I wanted, but it's for the wrong reasons. I’m a terrible person.”

Lance growls in anger and rises as high as he can manage on his knees to better hold her. “I just said you were brave and selfless. No matter what happens here, that won’t change, okay? I may not be super smart, but I do know that for a  _ fact _ .”

Sniffles. “Thank you, Lance. Thank you for always encouraging me. You have no idea what it means to me.”

He holds her until he feels his legs getting pruned and the water turns cold, and even then he doesn’t want to let go. Pidge needs him right now - whatever Livik has told her has gotten under her skin.   


“I love you so much it hurts,” Pidge finally tells him. “He’s going to make you mad just… please don’t fall for it. Stay alive, for the universe and for  _ me _ .”

“I promise,” Lance says. “I promise I’ll stay alive, we’ll find the others, and when we all form Voltron and stitch this universe back together, we’ll live the happiest life on Earth together. You, me, and all the others. Even… even new faces we meet along the way. We’re gonna get that happy ending.”

With the way Pidge really and truly smiles at him, Lance believes it. 


	11. Don't Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> canon divergent

Pidge’s heart races, the beat drumming in her ear. Whatever Allura was telling her is lost to the static, there is no reception down here in the belly of the Castle.   


She takes a deep breath, ignoring the engines powering up and focusing on the Altean script before her. How was she supposed to figure out the right sequence now without so much as an educated guess?

An exhale. “Whatever!” She brings her bayard back, ready to destroy the whole thing.   


“Don’t move.”

Pidge freezes before she can swing the green bayard forward, eyes wide in disbelief. In her peripheral vision, a grey blade presses against her throat, making her terrified swallow uncomfortable.   


Her breath hitches when he wraps his lanky fingers around her arm, his voice dripping with smugness close enough to her ear she can almost feel his fanged teeth.   


“Drop the weapon, child, and stand,” he orders.   


The engine continues to rumble and reaches 100% as Pidge does as asked. Her stomach churns with guilt as she feels the Castle move.   


Lift off.   


“Move,” the Galra orders.   


With each step forward the anxiety and guilt grows. She’s failed, unable to save her team, because she wasn’t decisive enough.   


Now she’s a captive like Lance and Shiro, in the hands of the aliens who kidnapped and tortured him along with her father and brother.   


Some teammate she was. Now she may never get another chance to be there for them.   


The door to the bridge opens.   


The scene tears her heart apart.

Shiro is the picture of defeat, bruises as exhaustion visible even from across the room. Not at all the confident pilot she saw off with Dad and Matt. When he looks up and sees her, it’s as if a bit of his soul leaves his body. He’s already seen two Holts taken by the Galra, Pidge is about to make it three.   


Lance’s shallow breaths and unconsciousness unnerve her. He looks even worse than when she last saw him.   


“I found the rat,” her captor announces.   


He pushes her towards the boys. While Pidge usually boasted pretty good balance, she stumbles and crashes to her knees into Shiro, who in typical Shiro fashion, moved to break her fall.   


“Well done, Haxus,” Sendak commends. “Emperor Zarkon is informed of our plans. Set a course for Central Command.”

Haxus salutes, a fiat over his chest. “Vrepit Sa.”

There are many questions Pidge wants to ask. Some of them are about the journey, some about what will become of them now.   


“How is Lance?” she asks quietly.   


Shiro is startled, as if awoken from a world of his own. Flashbacks of his time with the Galra no doubt. His eyes flicker to Lance, true fear in them.   


“Not good,” he tells her. “He’s only been getting worse.”

The weight of the situation crashes down on her. “I’m so sorry,” she says, sniffling back tears.   


“It’s not your fault, Pidge,” Shiro says gently. His tone serves to upset her even more. He knows exactly what awaits them and yet he spends his energy comforting her.   


She can’t help the louder than she’d like hitch in her breath before sobbing into Shiro’s arm. Lance is going to die if they don’t do something.   


“Your species is tenacious and mourns well,” Sendak crows. Armored boots stomp closer. “Perhaps it would be worth a visit to your planet to see if you are all like this.”

“Stay away from her,” Shiro growls.

It doesn’t stop Sendak from engulfing her body with his metal claw and lifting her off the ground.   


Pidge hasn’t known Sendak long, but she’s familiar with the awful, predatory look on his face, satisfaction in his eyes.   


“The first female of your species. Well then, this opens many more possibilities to make you useful.”

A sudden blast. Pidge falls to the ground hard, recovering just in time to see Lance awake, smirking, and holding a smoking bayard… before he falls back to the ground unconscious.   


“Lance!” Pidge isn’t sure entirely why she calls his name, let alone runs to him - it’s not like she can do anything about it.   


But it feels like the right thing to do for a teammate. Her first teammate, the one who first included her.   


Tried to include her, anyway.   


“Don’t you dare die, Lance,” she huffs through tears, clutching his arm. “I ha - I have to still prove to you I’m a good teammate. I’m sorry for every time I ever blew you and Hunk off. I’ll do better, just please don’t die. We have a universe to save and I still need to find my family and I need your  _ help _ .”

“Pidge!” Shiro’s command voice interrupts. “Run! Get the engine!”

Shiro is blocking Sendak’s route to her and Haxus is closing in fast.   


Pidge bolts, out of the room before Lance or Shiro can be used to bargain against her.   


She has a second chance.   


This time she won’t fail. 


	12. Adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pikelavar!
> 
> beating, threat of being burnt alive

Pike relishes in the chase. Blood pumps wildly through his body and into his ears as he lands masterfully on each and every tree branch, all while keeping his prey in sight.   


A few unsuspecting thieves from the Organization won’t mind if he takes a few coins for his own pockets.   


The Organization has grown lazy, relying on money to hire outside, but less loyal, muscle. Taking a few bags of gold won’t hurt them. Pike needs it for far more important reasons.   


Meklavar deserves something nice and the nicest thing Pike’s not-thief mind can think of is jewelry. He’s  _ seen _ the way she looks at the fabric and jewelry at the market, gaze staying just long enough so no one else notices. Great dwarven warrior she may be, but if Pike has to guess - and he’s usually pretty good at reading people - she misses dressing up a bit.   


So Pike is going to get her something nice that she can easily wear under or with her armor. Blood rushes to his cheeks at the thought of giving her a ring and what that would look like, but it would be impractical and throw off the grip on her axe potentially - even though wearing gloves shouldn’t make it matter. A necklace is nice and safe, easy to tuck in under her armor.   


He’s so excited. Soon he’ll see her again for the first time in months and this gift will surely make her smile - he misses that smile so much.   


The clumsy sell sword leads him to a rocky outcropping, hidden to untrained eyes by overgrown weeds and creeping vines. Pike knows exactly what he’s looking for though, and jumps on top of the rock.   


The sun begins to dip below the tree line. Pike can already feel the chill of night intrude on the warmth of day. Squatting, arms resting on his knees, Pike enjoys it, each sunset a reminder he’s made it to the end of the day and he can flourish in the shadows of the night.   


Time passes and the sun is nearly down before he hears shouting from inside the cave - and shrieks, arguing. Pike’s ear twitches. He isn’t unfamiliar with the Organization taking hostages or even captives simply for fun - it’s a large reason why he left after all. This tickles at something more in his gut, though, something uneasy.   


The struggle doesn’t last long, and soon two thugs drag a small body into the small clearing, chaining the person to the irons of the permanent fire pit.   


“Hold tight, sweetheart,” one crows as they head back into the cave. “It’ll get hot in there soon enough!”

Pike wants to be sick. They’re still doing human bonfires.   


That won’t happen again on his watch.   


He jumps down from rock to tree limb in total silence. He creeps closer until… until he sees, thanks to his low-light vision.   


Meklavar.   


Pike can’t breathe.   


It’s unmistakably her, curled in on herself and shivering, wrists and ankles all wrapped in rope and a short, fire roasted chain shackled to her neck. She moans in pain, muffled through the cloth tied tight around her mouth.   


And she’s wearing next to nothing, stripped to a dirty band of cloth around her chest and ripped up shorts - which to his utter relief look like they haven't been removed at all. It makes it easy to see the multitude of bruises and cuts on her body.

Ancients, he knew she’d be in the area but how did she catch the Organization’s attention?   


Pike is stirred from his shock by the creaking and moaning of a felled tree. He has to get her out of here before they return. He can’t take them all on his own and if they saw his face they’d kill him, a known deserter.   


And that would seal Meklavar’s fiery fate too - that Pike absolutely cannot live with.   


He’d messed up on the way to defeat Dakin and the Coranic dragon, but here his claws work deftly on the shackles on her neck and it pops loose.   


Voices in the near distance grow louder. Adrenaline makes his usually steady hands shake. He’s so angry and so scared. Meklavar is always so strong and assertive, seeing her unawares and beaten like this eats away at his soul.   


There is no time to take care of the rest of her bindings here. Pike takes her into his arms and runs. He jumps into the trees and gets as far from that awful place as he possibly can.   


Meklavar stirs in agitation, but never opens her eyes. His handling of her causes pain, he knows that from the anguished expressions on her face and the tears in her eyes. But he can’t stop, his mind goes blank, his only goal to get her as far from the Organization as possible.   


Miles from the cave, Pike lays her down at his own campsite, hidden just as well halfway up a cliff. It takes him just as long to reach it as if he’d had no passenger, making him painfully aware of just how little she weighs.   


He makes quick work of her bonds, the gag first so that her ragged breaths come more easily, then the wrists -immediately making her huddle to herself for warmth - he’s assisted by the warmth and light of his own campfire.

She’s so… so  _ tiny _ . Without her armor, Meklavar is as slightly as an elf, with the ears to match and—

Wait.   


She  _ is _ an elf.   


No matter. She must have her reasons. The important thing is getting her warm. Regardless of what he doesn’t know, she’s still the Meklavar he lov--

Still the Meklavar that’s his close companion.

Pike has no extra clothes, but he does have a blanket and a bedroll, and her cocoons her inside of it, letting her sleep by the fire.   


“...you should have woken by now,” Pike worries. He kneels by her, lifting one of her eyelids.   


Yellow greets him instead of the usual hazel. They’ve drugged her. She didn’t - she wouldn’t have even  _ known _ she was burning to death. She wouldn’t have known anything before—

Pike sees red and a feral growl escapes his lips, his claws push out and his fangs dig into his lips. When the drug makes its way out of her system and she knows she’s safe… he’s going to bring her back more than a necklace. 


	13. Tear Stained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ill timed confession, beating, pre-relationship, unwanted affection

“Leave him alone!” Pidge screams, her voice cracking and hoarse from all the crying and yelling she’s been doing.  


For what feels like the millionth time she desperately pulls on the chains that shackle her to the wall of this prison cell - the ones that keep her from reaching Lance across the room.  


“Stop it,” she cries, using her legs to leverage strength - though she remains stuck. Even though it hurts her, Lance has it worse. “He can’t take any more of this. Please!”  


Their Galra guard delivers a thunderous punch and Lance falls hard to the floor, Pidge’s heart skipping a beat and lets out an audible, horrified gasp as his head ricochets off the metal floor. His eyes are closed and body lax, the chains connecting his wrists to the wall holding his full weight.  


Commander Destek tchs, his arms crossed as he stands watching to the side. “Disappointing he didn’t last longer. Wake him. I need the coordinates to the Lions.”  


The guard grabs the chains, claws out, ready scratch Lance’s unconscious face.

Pidge pulls on the chains again, snarling, her heart racing in panic. “He doesn’t know! You’re going to kill him if you keep that up, then you’ll never get the Lions!”

Destek places a hand on the shoulder of Lance’s torturer, and to Pidge's relief, lets go of the chains, letting Lance fall back limp.  


The Commander walks over to her, paying attention to her for the first time since they arrived here. Pidge steps away, back to the wall, shackled hands in front of her in some false sense of security, heart pounding as her breaths come short and fearful. Lance has taken the brunt of the pain, being the stupid loudmouth as usual… the least Pidge can do is take some of that burden from him.  


His hand is as large as her head, and Pidge recoils into herself as far as she can as he cups her chin. Pidge hates this - hates being so completely and utterly helpless.  


“You care a good amount for your fellow Paladin,” Destek says as he wipes the tears from her cheek with his thumb. “For one so small and frail you have a large voice. Perhaps you are ready to tell me the location of the Lions, and in return, we won’t hurt the boy further.”

Pidge sucks in several breaths, as if trying to remember how. The Green Lion has a barrier, although she doesn’t know where the Blue Lion is, she can offer her own Lion that is still intact and could potentially rescue them if in the same location. She spares them both further pain this way and allows a possible escape route.  


It's the most plausible plan she can devise, and it gives them time for the rest of the team to rescue them.  


“I can give you the coordinates for the Green Lion,” she says as evenly as she can. The steadiness and ferocity of her voice surprises even her. “I don’t know where the Blue Lion is.”

Destek hums thoughtfully and his subordinate grins cruelly. “Shall I smack the Blue Paladin around some more?”

Pidge squeaks -  _ squeaks _ , how embarrassing - when he pulls Lance to a sitting position… at least allowing his arms to rest.  


“I wonder,” Destek muses, “how compliant you might be for me in return for his good health.”

Somewhere in her brain, Pidge feels a distinctive  _ snap _ . With the universe at stake, she really can’t afford to be compassionate. She’s the gateway to too much information. Any one of them could provide information on the Coalition’s movements, but the things that Pidge knows make the Castle tick, the codes to files of ongoing undercover missions…

But Lance’s life is on the line.  


Destek laughs, momentarily providing her relief from answering. “I love that terrified look on your face, eyes wide and stunned like a cornered animal.” He pauses, only to ruffle her hair in  _ affection _ . “I’ll give you some time to mull over what your cooperation will mean, and if your teammate’s life is truly worth it. For now, a show of good faith. In return for healing him, tell me a truth no one else knows - and make it juicy,” he smirks cruelly. “I must have something to keep my interest.”

Pidge swallows deeply. There is only one thing on her mind that fits that criteria, and it’s the worst possible thing Destek, or anyone could ever know. She desperately tries to think of anything else, but her mind keeps coming back to Lance, how he offered her to be part of the group right away, the first time he told her she was a genius, their nights of video games, and the way her heart races every time he gets in her personal space.  


But Destek is expectant and she feels like crying all over again for this hopeless situation.  


“I like Lance,” she spews, chest heavy, but the admission is already out. “A lot,” she continues, seeing Destek’s confused expression. “More than a teammate should.”

A light seems to light up in his eyes and his lips curl up even wider than before. “Here I expected an intelligence report, but this,” he purrs, “is even better.”

He knees to her eye level. “I am going to have a lot of fun with you on board, Green Paladin.”

Heat rushes to her cheeks. “J-just heal him and don’t hurt him anymore. You wanted the Green Lion’s coordinates didn’t you?” she spits out, closing her eyes as if it will take her away from this humiliation. She can’t stand to look at him any longer, especially now that he  _ knows _ the secret she keeps from even from her brother.

More gently than she’d ever expect from a Galra commander, he lifts her chin. “A  _ lot _ of fun. Perhaps I can even be persuaded to help you claim your mate.”

Pidge buckles to her knees, stomach churning at what that could even mean.  


To her relief, Destek finally lets her go. “Get the Blue Paladin healed, I want Green on the bridge within the varga,” he says as he stands. “We have some Lion hunting to do.”

Pidge slumps to the wall, breathing uneven as she watches the guard unchain Lance and drag him out the door. It closes moments later, leaving her in dark silence.  


There is no guarantee they’ll actually heal Lance, but Pidge hopes her personal embarrassment will save him so long as it interests the commander. But it also comes with the horrible realization, that just like she’ll do anything for her family - including moving the universe…

She’ll do the same for Lance in a heartbeat. 


	14. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> past whipping/beating otherwise this is just fluff
> 
> established relationship, pirate au

“Do… do they still hurt?” Pidge whispers.   


Lance feels the vibration of her lips against his neck, her hands gently caressing his scar-riddled back. The open window in the back of the cabin lets in the sweet sea breeze and the first signs of sunrise. He typically loves early morning, getting the ship ready for yet another day at sea, but he has peace right now, snuggled in bed with his wife.   


Yet he winces when she asks, more out of remembrance than actual pain, meaning he can’t lie. “They hurt every day,” he sighs quietly.

Pidge eases her touch and though his back aches, he wants her to hold him again. So he adjusts the blanket they share and scoots back towards her, moaning contently when her chest covers his back once more.   


She kisses him on the nape of his neck. “I’ve heard rumor of a great healer in the Southern Isles,” Pidge tells him. “Maybe it would ease your pain. We have plenty of gold leftover from the last raid.”

“As if anyone from the south would take Galra coin,” he murmurs. “Let’s talk business later. It is still early in the morning. I want to take advantage of the quiet.”

Pidge giggles, pulling the blanket over his shoulders. “You, enjoy the quiet? Who are you and what have you done with Lance?”

“Still the same Lance,” he counters. “But talking business means we have to involve  _ Keith _ , and I just want to spend the morning with my wife.”

Cooing and babbling noises reach his ears, nearly on cue. “And my daughter,” he adds. Though he is annoyed at the breakup of the peaceful morning, his tone betrays his delight. If someone had told him a few months ago - the night before his hanging, exhausted and near death from the flogging anyway - that today he would be alive and well and living his idea life, he’d have scoffed and said he had none.

He stirs, urged on by the only siren call he’ll ever answer. The tiny babe is awake in her crib, and smiles when she sees him crouch over her.   


“Hey, beautiful,” he says, a glowing smile reflecting his lightened heart. Gently, he takes her into his arms. He bounces and spins slowly as he makes his way back to the bed, sitting on the edge. “I bet you want mama huh? Breakfast?”

Pidge takes her from his arms. “Say ‘thank you, Papa’,” she urges with a knowing smile. The baby is far too young to say words, but Lance’s heart does flip flops when they speak to her anyway.   


This is his family, the one he made himself here on the high sea. His daughter will grow up surrounded by nothing but love, the crew will be her aunts and uncles and the sea will be her classroom.

“They were worth it,” he says.

Pidge looks up, a bemused grin on her face. “What was worth it? Taking Sendak for everything he was worth yesterday?”

Lance chuckles. “Okay maybe that too,” he admits. “If I hadn’t stayed behind that day… you’d have been caught and our daughter would have been born in prison and without either of us as she grew.”

He knows he doesn’t imagine Pidge holding their daughter a bit tighter.   


“But I got you out, and you’re as healed as you can be,” she says quickly, eyes not quite reaching his own. “It was  _ bad _ , Lance. Your back… the wounds were so infected…”

Lance grins and jokes, “Yeah, it felt pretty bad too.” He kisses her on the forehead. “You have my unending gratitude for the rescue,  _ Captain _ .”

Pidge scrunches her face up in disgust, but her daughter’s hungry quickly turns her expression soft and introspective.   


She snorts humorlessly, But her lips do twitch upwards slightly. “I have your marriage vows, so yes, yes I do have your unending gratitude.”

Lance leans back, falling into the bed behind her. He kisses her bare back. “There is nothing that makes me happier.   


If this was truly a pirate’s life, then a pirate’s life was for him.


	15. Pinned Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pikelavar! (Inspired by dragon!Meklavar by [Defenders of Aurita](https://defendersofaurita.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> first meetings
> 
> hostage situation involving children

Pike slips silently into the cave, fully on guard. He doesn’t mind the darkness, his eyes allow him to see better in the absence of light than most.   


Though he can see just fine, he’s still on edge. Each step that should be second nature takes precious ticks longer.   


But extra cautious he must be, for invading a dragon’s lair means walking the thin line between the treasure of a lifetime or certain, grisly death.   


Pike wouldn’t even be here if not for… if the lives of his niece and nephew weren’t on the line.   


_ “Bring me the Jewel of Jitan,” Bentok tells him with a smug, knowing smile - the knowledge that Pike is trapped. The crime boss sits back into his large throne-like chair and gently pulls little Nadia closer to him and strokes her ears. She’s terrified, tears staining her cheeks as she sobs, tail curled up and eyes shut tightly as if to pretend none of this is happening.   
_

_ Pike feels sick, unable to do a thing for his niece, nor his nephew, struggling in the arms of a nearby guard, lest all of them die here and now. _

_ “As long as you succeed, the children will be in safe hands.” _

Pike’s breath hitches at the memory. He must do this. The kids are counting on him, and he’s the only family they have left… the only family  _ he _ has left.   


The floor moves. Pike holds his breath as the dragon stirs, stretching its feathery wings and relieving an itch on its belly with razor sharp claws. Pike is afraid he’s messed up and his late brother’s children will be doomed to a life of slavery with his death.   


But the dragon simply slumps over on its other side, snorting out a bit of flame, remaining deep in slumber.   


Pike only lets himself relax after a full minute of draconic snoring.   


He’s even more careful as he stealthily walks deeper into the cave, heart pounding in fear. His stomach is uneasy until he sees one object he’s very familiar with - a gold coin.   


A trail of them leads to the most glorious sight he’s ever seen - the dragon’s treasure room.   


Piles of gold litter the large cavern, and goblets of silver and jewels of every color cover every square inch. There are suits of armor, tapestries, and mechanical marvels he’s only heard rumor of when he sneaks into castles.   


Pike slaps himself, which he regrets because the rings he wears hurt. “Get your head in the game! Nadia and Sylvio are counting on you!” he whispers harshly.   


Treading softly over the treasure he keeps himself focused, using a discerning eye from years of thievery to try and find the item that Bentok seeks. He’s heard talk of it in darker circles, mages after it for its magical properties. Pike could hardly care, to him it's simply the key to freeing the kids.   


His tail stands on end when he reaches the back of the cavern. On a pedestal is a diamond the size of his fist, clearly special enough to deserve a spot of honor. Pike lets out a sigh of relief as he reaches out and takes it into his hands.

“You’ll be out of his hands soon, guys. Be brave just a little bit longer.”

Then the breath is knocked from his lungs.

In an instant he is face first in a pile of gold, hard jagged treasure pokes uncomfortably into his belly and cheeks. He gains leverage by putting his arms under his chest and tries to stand… but a massive force pushes down relentlessly on him.

“A thief? How  _ dare _ you try and take what is not yours?” the dragon hisses and huffs. “I suppose I should expect no less of humans, much less a man.”

Well, that cleared up a few things.   


“I need only borrow it, lady dragon!” Pike gasps. “I can return it to you, just as soon as my niece and nephew are safe, I swear it!”

The dragon is silent for a few terrifying moments before rolling him over onto his back with the flip of a claw. She keeps one heavy on his chest as he gasps for breath.   


Her four horns form what looks like a crown, feathers dressed her wings like a robe over her scales. The claws… just as sharp and dangerous as he’d expected as the one on him begins to get uncomfortable, breaking his skin.   


Her eyes piece his soul just as much as her claw digs into his skin. They are angry, and looks so… so…

So human.   


“Mortal excuses are getting more pathetic by the day,” she growls.   


Arching her head back and breathing in, Pike whines in terror. She’s going to roast him to death!

“Please don’t! I’m not lying!” he begs.

She breathes on him, a thick smog that makes him cough, desperate for air. “N-no!” he struggles, not caring the claw drags down his chest, tearing his shirt in two and leaving a thin line of broken skin. “I can’t - he’ll never let them go.” he cries, skin crawling at the thought of Bentok trapping his nephew in a cage and treating his niece like a lapcat.   


When the smog clears and he still draws breath, he dares look back up to the dragon who still has him pinned.   


She no longer looks at him in contempt, rather one of pity.

“You tell the truth,” she says - more quietly than he’d ever expect. Releasing him, she steps back, eyes drifting to the distance, mind clearly elsewhere.   


Pike slowly rises to his knees, now feeling the stinging pain in his chest. “What did you do to me?” he asks, because magic was not his expertise and dragons were very magical.   


She does not look his way. “A truth spell… I saw the young ones from your eyes I-I am sorry… I too would do anything for my family.”

Gulping, and feeling a bit more bold now that he isn’t under threat of death, he takes the Jewel of Jitan from where it lies haphazardly on the piles of gold before standing.   


No sooner than he does, he’s wrapped in claws, arms pinned to his sides. He meets the dragon’s stony gaze.   


“But I cannot let you leave with the Jewel of Jitan,” she says definitively. “It is my duty to see to it’s safety. It has far more power than you know, disastrous when in the wrong hands. Especially one who would enslave children.”

Pike growls. “Then you know why I can’t just leave them there! I’m the only hope they’ve got! If I don’t bring him this hunk of rock I—” he chokes, then hardens his resolve, “you might as well kill me because I couldn’t live with myself leaving them to that fate.”

The dragon considers him for several long moments, more than he likes, as he lets her know by struggling in her grip.   


Eventually, she sets him back down.

“I will rescue your niece and nephew,” the dragon says, stunning Pike to stillness, “but in return, the three of you must live here. I cannot let definitive knowledge of the Jewel leave this cave, the world depends on it. Do you understand?”

What hope Pike feels when the dragon began talking turns to rage. “So we go from one prison to another?”

The dragon bristles, eyes narrowed in distaste. “You can choose me, who will gladly educate the children and perhaps one day let you all go should you earn my trust, or they stay with the man who will keep them as slaves, never to see their uncle again.”

The entire situation angers Pike still… but dragons are protective, and this one is definitely not evil. If true to her word it won’t be the worst life for the kids, and he can keep an eye on them. In any case, she's right, better her than Bentok.

Pike takes a deep breath, feeling just as trapped as when he was given his mission. Though he has no choice, he searches her golden eyes one last time for hope and truth. “You’ll really save them? And keep them safe after? They won’t just be a-a shiny toy for a few weeks?

The dragon looks almost offended he would even think that. “You have my word. On my name, Meklavar Forestguard, I swear to you and your family will be treated like people.”

He knows a dragon’s name is sacred, and for him just to know it seals his own fate to stay here. Slumping, he lets the Jewel of Jitan loose and it falls to the ground between them. “It’s a deal, Meklavar,” he says as strongly as he can. For Nadia and Sylvio. “The name’s Pike. You’ll have my blade for life if you save them.”

Meklavar grins, big and toothy, almost smug. “Let’s go hunting for organized crime scum, Pike.”


	16. "Stay with me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> canon divergent au - if Sendak was successful
> 
> technically a hostage situation, captivity

Pidge stumbles forward, barely keeping herself upright after the rough push.   


“Five doboshes, Paladin,” Sendak says coolly before he smirks. “Then the obedience lessons continue.”   


As the door locks shut behind Pidge, a sense of relief runs up her spine. Five doboshes to reset her mind and body.

Good, she has something important to do.

The cryopods hum, just as they did on the Castle, providing a familiar background noise to this nightmare. Sendak’s new battlecruiser is far less homey, but still functions as a place to live amongst the stars.   


Walking up to the one occupied cryopod, she rests her hand against the fake glass and sighs deeply. It’s cold. Her new suit is insulated, designed to be comfortable in any reasonable temperature, but her hands are bare and it sends a shiver up her arms. Neither she nor Lance were used to the cold, and she’s positive he’d hate it if he weren’t in stasis.   


Pidge takes a shivering, deep breath, closing her eyes to prepare to speak. What does she even say in five doboshes?

“Hey, Lance,” she starts, forcing a smile. “You’ll be feeling better soon, I promise. That wound was pretty nasty.” She gulps. “Shiro wasn’t sure if you were going to make it. Neither was I.”   


It was easy to reassure him in this moment, when she’s away from her captors, though it sobers her to remember that his life is literally in her hands. She’d sworn to Shiro as he was ripped away and taken to Central Command that she would look after Lance, and that she would be a better teammate. Her job was to survive and make sure Lance did too, and then find a way to escape - she is committed to doing both.

But she can’t do that until he’s healed and out of the cryo-pod.   


Talking to Lance without him talking back was weird. Really weird. She can’t imagine a time when Lance wasn’t prattling on in the simulator or talking her ear off at mealtime. It’s unnerving, to see him so still, almost lifeless if she didn’t know the cryopod was the only thing keeping him alive.   


“I uh… sorry, this is weird,” she apologizes. “I don’t really know what to say.”

Not with prying and listening ears.   


“So, um… oh!” Pidge realizes with a start. It’s a good a time as ever to come clean. “So, I’m a girl, actually.” She frowns. “A little easier to tell with the new suit.”

The loose green cloth around her shoulders is the only thing that sets her apart from the other prisoners. The suit itself fits tight against her body, perfectly molded, as if it were a second skin. Yet it makes her uncomfortable. It isn’t the baggy clothing she normally likes. The Galra don’t spare her a second glance, not like humans would in such an outfit, though Pidge is mostly sure it's designed for specifically to make her insecure and vulnerable - just one more form of humiliation.   


She wonders how Lance would react, and if he would see her in a different light wearing this ensemble. The thought of him oogling at her like he does all the other girls infuriates her, one because it’s disgusting, but also because she would  _ like _ the thrill of being noticed like that.   


Pidge holds herself, arms criss-crossing over her chest.   


“Sorry for not telling you sooner. Iverson never would have let me back in the Garrison.” Pidge snorts, eyes downcast, a sobering thought entering her mind, “Maybe this’ll make it easier to find Dad and Matt.”

His face is relaxed, peaceful even, but predictably Lance doesn’t respond.   


“That’s why I never really wanted to hang out with you and Hunk,” she confesses, hanging her head. Never did she think she’d ever have to talk about this. “You two were just my random simulator crew. I didn’t even really care if we passed or not, just enough so no one would pay any attention to me.”

She gulps, “I…” Butterflies dance in her stomach. Might as well say everything. “I think sometimes I actually had a crush on you,” she admits. “I know this is an awful place to say that. You always listened to me, even though you didn’t understand half of it. It was  _ nice _ having that  _ good  _ kind of attention, not calling me a nerd - even if you didn’t mean it like you were interested… like  _ that _ . Not that you could have known.”

Pidge bites her lip. “You never gave up on me. No matter how many times I said you were an idiot or how awful a pilot you were. You weren’t,” she insists. “You were a  _ good _ pilot if you could just see past your own cockiness. But Hunk and I never helped,” a sour laugh, “the three of us were a  _ mess _ .”

She takes a deep breath, looking him in the eye. “But we were a team, and now our team is more important than ever,” she says, apology oozing from her tone. “My dad once said that he always viewed his crew like family and I never understood, but now I get it.

“So I swear I’m going to be a good teammate,” she says, determination welling up in her belly, fists clenched. “I know it's going to be awful, but I’m going to make sure we both come out of this alive and I can thank you properly for making an effort to be my friend.

“So, stay with me, Lance. Don’t you dare die, ‘cause I’m staying with you as long as it takes to reunite team Voltron.”

The door opens abruptly.

“Time is up, Paladin,” Sendak snides as he stands imposingly in the doorway.   


Her stomach twists into knots, suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe. Time to watch him conquer the planet Terast as she sits helplessly by the side..   


Pidge turns to Lance, more preferable to look at than Sendak. “I’ll see you later, Lance,” she whispers, voice wavering. “I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry.”

No response, not even a twitch of the finger.   


She wraps her arms around herself and walks towards the door. Today will no doubt be filled with humiliation and fear.   


But she’ll endure it so Lance can continue healing. Continue living.   


Just like she promised. 


	17. Muffled Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mission fic, non-detailed breaking of arm
> 
> post canon, established relationship

Lance breathes in - then out. Nice and easy. Everything will be fine. Just another mission.

He adjusts his grip on his bayard, in sniper rifle mode in accordance with the part he currently plays. Having the bayard sets his mind a little at ease with how perfectly it fits in his hands, grateful the Lions didn’t magically take them with when they left. Laying on his stomach steadies him as he peers through the scope. Pidge works on the generator inside the crater, completely absorbed in her task.   


Out in the open. Unprotected.   


Bait.   


Just like they’d planned.   


_ Not _ just another mission.

There was no way the pirates would miss this opportunity to take the most tech savvy Paladin hostage, not when they'd been stealing any tech she,  _ specifically _ , touched. When they did, Lance will plant the tracker with his rifle and the rest of the team would move in once they had knowledge of where the base was hidden.

Lance hates this mission. His mind keeps flashing back to their Voltron days, when Zethrid and Ezor were their enemies - watching helplessly as Pidge was pinned against the wall, her terrified face as Ezor debated where to stab first…

His stomach twists, breaths just a little bit quicker.   


And Lance knows he’s selfish, but there’s more riding on the line now than before. Pidge and their daughter are  _ his _ universe to defend now - he’d made the wedding vow to seal it. That’s why he came with, to make sure the tracker hit its target when the pirates showed - to make  _ absolutely sure _ the team can find and rescue his wife after she’s taken.   


Hopefully just a little bit longer. Then they could go home, Lance back to training pilots and Pidge back to running the Defenders and they could greet their toddler with a kiss and a hug.   


“AH!”   


A sharp pain hits his shoulder, forcing him to lose all concentration and send him to rolling arm over arm - away from his weapon.

Rough hands grab and hold down his arms. Lance gasps when he looks up to see a very familiar looking Galra towering over him. Lance knows he’s a former commander, they all have that same royally smug grin, but he can’t remember the name for the life of him.   


“Greetings  _ former _ Red Paladin,” the Galra pirate begins. “A bit of a hot day for shooting practice. Why don’t you come inside with us and cool off.”

It is not an inviting smile.

How did they--

Pidge.

Lance opens his mouth, ready to scream her name - tell her to run.   


His voice is lost and muffled as a cloth is shoved into his mouth. Still, he screams, straining his neck desperately to look for Pidge. Lance screams again as a searing pain rushes through his nerves when the Galra pirate brings his elbow down on Lance’s arm.

“Your wife will be well, she’s needed to complete our newest weapon,” he says, reaching for a pair of handcuffs. “You, however, may not fair so well if she refuses to cooperate.”

_ Quiznaker _ , Lance seethes, not that his captor can understand. Several other choice words ran through his mind, but the glare he gives should relay the message.   


The pirate merely chuckles. “Fear not. At least you’re together. Give us a few months of planning, we’ll bring your precious brat here to keep you both company.”

Lance doesn’t remember much after that. Blinded by rage, he might have started his counterattack with a headbutt, but all he knows now is that he slides down the crater at speeds even the Red Lion would be pleased with, his (probably) broken arm protesting the entire time. There’s a few shots fired and by the time he reaches the bottom and spits out the gag he’s sore and the sandy soil looks more like water through his wobbly vision.   


Green flashes in his peripheral.   


“Lance!” Pidge yelps, kneeling by him. Though her face is blurry she’s obviously distressed. “Hang out, the team in coming in - I’ll hold them off. Just - just don’t die!” she demands.

Every inch of his body aches, feeling crummy emotionally and physically. “I’ma-I’m supos’ta protec--”

“Save it for when you’re better. I can’t heal your ego right now. Just  _ trust _ me!”

He does.

When he wakes in the Garrison hospital sometime later, Pidge is sitting by his side. Her eyes are filled to the brim with tears, but at the same time she looks distinctly like she wants to kill him.   


“I never would have found out they were behind me if you hadn’t fallen off the  _ cliff _ ,” she berates. Lance can’t figure out if she’s thanking him or chewing him out. “I love you and I hate you so much.”

She hugs him tight.   


Lance can’t help but grin. Pidge is safe. Mission complete. 


	18. "Stay Quiet"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> set during s4, I imagine they'd have to save Puig a few times
> 
> standard canon-typical violence - though a kid is involved this time
> 
> technically unresolved ending, but trending happy
> 
> Not sure if this one turned out exactly how I imagined in my head, but here we go.

The rocks above groan, sliding just a little bit more out of place each time so much as a gust passes by, drowning out Lance’s soft humming.

It’d be worse if Lance or his charge moved. Any overt motion from either of them would send a landslide of boulders to crush them to death.   


They have no choice but to wait for rescue, and hope it isn’t by a Galra Empire soldier.   


So he holds the young Puigian boy close to his chest, letting him squirm on his lap if he needs to. Lance isn’t sure how long they’ve been trapped, but being that young himself once, he knows Dimta will get restless far quicker than he.   


“What song are you singing?” he asks, so quietly Lance almost mistakes it for breathing.   


Lance grins despite himself. “What would you do if I sang out of tune,” he whispers without the tune. “Would you stand up and walk out on me?” He pats the boy on the back, amused by his quizzical expression. “It’s an old song from my home planet.”

“It’s weird,” he says, nose scrunched in distaste.   


“Most songs are if you really think about it.”

Dimta sighs heavily into his chest. “You have a nice voice, Paladin Lance. No one would dare walk out on you.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” Lance chuckles softly, touched and humored by the honesty of a child. “Got any requests?”

The boy looks up with such trustful, expectant eyes. “How much longer until help comes?”

Lance’s heart freezes.  _ I don’t know _ , is his most truthful answer, but he can’t bring himself to tell Dimta that. “Soon,” he says, hoping that it isn’t a lie. Lance’s heart thrums with renewed anxiety. “The Red Lion is pretty on top of knowing its Paladin is in trouble.”

Or, at least it had for Keith.   


Dimta, thankfully, trusts Lance enough to simply sigh of boredom. “Do you know any good stories?”

Lance can feel his heart practically glow. “Do I know any good stories,” he huffs quietly, squeezing Dimta tight and earning a soft giggle from the boy. “You are stuck with the right Paladin. I could tell you tales for so long you’d be a grown up by the time I’m finished.

“But just one for now. We’ll be rescued before its even done,” Lance assures him.

Dimta smiles, with the trust that only a child can have. “I’m ready.”

Lance opens his mouth confidently, but the words don’t come. He has a retinue of a thousand stories from Earth to tell this kid and any one of them would be fresh and interesting - all he has to do is pick one.   


“Is it about the other Paladins?” Dimta prompts eagerly after several long moments.   


“Yeah, oh yeah,” Lance quickly assures him like the liar he is. Great, now he can’t even pull from his awesome collection of Earth stories. The kid would probably eat up a tale about all of them having breakfast together.   


…Maybe that will work.   


“Shiro was the best pilot on our home planet,” Lance begins.  _ But Shiro is also the one currently lost _ , he realizes with a wince. This wouldn’t go far. “Me and the others followed in his footsteps and went to the same school for pilots. Pidge, Hunk, and I were all on a team and we had the worst simulator scores.”

Dimta’s jaw drops in horror. “ _ You _ were a bad pilot?”

“The worst,” Lance says with an eye roll. “I once tried to thread the needle and I clipped our shuttle’s wings.”

Raised eyebrow, abject confusion. “Thread the needle?”

Maybe he’d save that one for another day.   


“The important thing,” Lance emphasizes, quietly, of course, “is that even though we started terrible, we ended up working really well once we all became part of Voltron. And if we can work as a team, anyone can. Me and Pidge - the Green Paladin - for example, we were always at each other’s throats at school. I’m pretty sure she hated me, and I didn’t even know why.”

Pidge’s entire story wasn’t his to tell, but he could give Dimta the gist of it. Even glimpses of it were far more interesting to talk about than his own in any case.   


“Turns out she was trying to stay focused on finding her family. They were - still are,” Lance admits sadly, “in Galra hands.”

Dimta gasps at that, a light of admiration in his eyes. “She was trying to find them all by herself?”

Lance can empathize. Pidge decided to take on the impossible, and she hadn’t even known about aliens yet - it  _ was _ pretty incredible when he looks back on it.   


“Yeah, she’s pretty stubborn even as a friend,” Lance chuckles. Part of her charm, he thinks. “I spend so much time in her lab trying to get her out of it to play video games. Even  _ my _ charms only work half the time.”

There’s nothing he enjoys more than looking over her shoulder and hearing her work through the latest problem she has to solve, always confident she’ll come up with the solution eventually. All Paladin responsibility leaves the air once they start playing Killbot Phantasm, Pidge with the controller and Lance with the glove to give him the infinite lives (he sorely needed them, as it turned out), working through level after level. Playing with Pidge makes him feel more useful than usual, able to bring joy to a teammate by simply being himself.   


“She’s the best Green Paladin anyone could ask for - she’s super smart, funny, and has the most loyal heart. She’d do anything for any of us.”

Anything for him, he realizes. She’d stayed to save him when Sendak hijacked the Castle, she’d been extra fierce during the fight against the Warden in Beta Traz.   


It was nice, he reminisces with a smile and a warmth in his heart, to be cared about like that.   


More than anything, right now he wishes she were here. “She’d do the physics to get us out of here,” he says. “That’s for sure.” Then they could spend a relaxing evening playing games, which sounded ideal right now.   


He could play games with her forever.   


The mere thought sends his heart skipping in realization. Lance can actually imagine a future with the two of them together - working at the Galaxy Garrison, a nice house on base like the officers get, being a test pilot, doting on his own little kids - showing them and Pidge all his favorite spots at the beach. Pidge would love the plant life with her newfound bond with Green…

The rumble of a ship landing knocks a few small rocks loose, an area of dirt the size of his finger rushing like a waterfall onto his shoulder. Lance’s heart races in anticipation, putting a hand over Dimta’s head as heavy footsteps approach.   


That isn’t a Coalition ship.   


“Paladin Lance…?” Dimta’s voice wavers, clearly understanding the danger.   


“Stay quiet, no more talking,” Lance pleads, terrified. The Galra were going to find them first, use Dimta as a hostage and then use him as a hostage against the team or just kill them both.   


He could  _ really _ use a little help from his friends right now.   


“The scanner shows life signs over here, Lieutenant!”   


Quiznak, so much for attempting to hide.   


Galra claws poke in through the holes between rocks as one after another is lifted, bringing more and more sunlight into their natural prison. Lance’s heart drums through his ears, desperate enough he twists, putting his body between Dimta and their villainous rescuers.   


It’s the cruel laugh that lets Lance know they’ve been found and identified. “Get the Commander! Tell him I’ve caught him one of the Voltron Paladins!”

With a jerk, Lance is pulled out of the cave by his collar and tossed unceremoniously onto the rocky soil.   


“Let me go, you jerks!” Dimta screams.   


Lance lifts himself up to see his worst fears - the Galra in charge holding the boy up by the scruff of his neck.   


Lance doesn’t let it get further than that. “Let him go!” he demands on his hands and knees, though his breath is harsh with adrenaline. “I’m the one you want.”

Their captor chuckles unkindly. “We’ll see what the Commander says. There’s always room for another hostage.”

Glaring is about all he can do now, the sunlight making it difficult to look too far up. The light reflects off metal, making a shimmer that is almost unbearable to look at.   


But something in his gut tells him to look.   


And there in the sky, coming right for them like an angel, is the Green Lion.

“It’s a Lion!” one of the subordinates yells. “Run!”

The lieutenant holding Dimta drops him, backpedaling as far away as he can.   


Lance grins, and catches Dimta’s growing smile of delight. Yes, indeed it was a Voltron Lion. And she was hungry.


	19. Trembling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blood, hostage situation, rescue mission
> 
> set post series, established relationship

“ _ Pidge, be rational about this! Please! _ ”

Snap. Crackle. Her bayard slices through another Galra sentry. She continues her run down the dark metal hallways illuminated by magenta light.   


“ _ Pidge _ ,” Hunk pleads through the comm. “ _ Wait, like, five doboshes and we will be there!” _

Static.

_ “ … you’re already inside the base aren’t you? _

“No time to talk, Hunk. Lance is here and I am not letting our daughter grow up without her father. Run extraction subroutine delta - there’s more sentries here than I thought.”

“ _ Dude, you are going to make my anxiety flare up. Fine, I’ll run it, but I will beat you to the command deck. Go get Lance. _ ”

Pidge allows herself a small smile as she runs around the corner and it's clear of sentries. Finally, the prison section. “Thanks for having my back, Hunk. Hanger five is open and ready for you.”

Throwing her arm back for extra power, Pidge slams the business end of her bayard at the control panel. No time for hacking today.

_ “You’ll surrender the Central Bank codes to me if you wish for the former Paladin to live after the twenty-four varga deadline.” _

Knowing Lance was being held hostage made her angry. Seeing him unconscious on the floor, bruised, bloody, and twitching during the ransom video had sent her into a rage fueled mission that had brought her directly to the base after hacking some choice servers.   


The bayard shakes with rage in her hand as she opens cell after cell…   


“Lance?” she whispers in horror.

He sits slumped to his side, hanging by chains around his wrists. In the dim light, Pidge can see he breathes softly and all at once she lets out a sigh of relief.   


She slides to his side and cuts the chains, prompting him to fall on her.   


Pidge lets out a humorless laugh despite the tears that fall from her eyes. “I always wanted you to fall into my arms,” she teases before she bites her lip, the only act that prevents her from sobbing. “Just not like this. Please be okay, Lance. The others are coming, I’ve got you. You’re safe, I promise.”   


She holds him close, but shakes in fear even as she whispers her reassurances. In her mind she knows she probably can’t take on a large number of sentries from this position, but her heart wants to tear them all to shreds for what they’ve done to Lance.   


They come sooner than she expected. When she hears the clanking footsteps approach, she lays Lance gently down upon his back, a far more comfortable position than she’d found him in. She gives him a soft kiss on the forehead, a promise to return. By the time the sentries arrive, Pidge is there to meet them in the hallway, protecting the entrance to Lance’s cell.   


She holds up the green bayard, crackling with electricity,  _ daring _ them to come at her.   


“You’re not hurting him anymore!” Pidge declares, shifting her footing in preparation to attack.

The battle is a blur. Wires spill from the sentries as she slices them open one after the other, fueled by a rage she hasn’t felt since reality itself was at stake. The muscles in her striking arm burn more with each swing and upper-cut.   


Until she sees red.   


It feels different than the mechanical sentries - her bayard encounters a softness that isn’t wire, but rather gut. Pidge raises her gaze to see the pirate responsible for the ransom call, and Lance’s imprisonment in the first place.   


The one who was planning on killing him.

Pidge growls and twists her bayard further into his midsection. His shocked eyes grow wider, open mouth gaping but emitting no sound.   


“Why did you do it?” Pidge seethes. “You have peace. You have stability.  _ Why _ ?”

The Galra pirate grins wickedly, unmoving, but voice considerably weaker than it had been on the video. “There are those of us who will  _ never _ accept anything less than the return to glory of the Galra Empire. You Paladins are  _ weak _ leaders. Your peace will fall with your deaths and crumble into obscurity.   


“Everything you’ve worked for is for naught. Your children will be forced to pick up arms simply because of their parentage, made a rallying cry and figureheads for groups who don’t even have their best interests at heart. They have no future. Death would be a kind--”

Pidge doesn’t let him finish, twisting her bayard and ripping it out. He falls to the floor with his final breath.   


The green bayard clinks against the metal floor soon after. Pidge breathes heavy and deliberately, hitching as her brain tries to recover, tries to forget the future he’d just described. But Pidge’s curiosity is her downfall, and already a half dozen fates that her daughter may face race across her mind.   


She drops to her knees, holding her trembling hands to her chest. A traitorous thought scrolls above all other thoughts - what if he’s right? Are they weak leaders? Are they doing the greatest good for the universe?

“P-pidge?”

Though weak, Lance’s voice breaks Pidge from her doubts. He stands at the threshold of his cell, slumped against the doorframe and clutching his side. His eyes are bloodshot, one of them black and blue, but they still shine with concern for her.   


“Lance,” she exhales as if out of breath. In a moment she’s to his side, helping him to the ground. “Don’t aggravate your wounds. Hunk and Keith should be landing about now, we’re getting you home.”

Dropping his head onto her shoulder, he closes his eyes and grins like a goofball. “Good. I made a promise to be at the birthday party.”

“The birthday…” Pidge gapes incredulously, but can’t help but smile with happy tears in her eyes. Their daughter was only three years old, she would hardly remember if Lance was there or not.   


But it was important to him. And her too, really.   


With that, all Pidge’s worries of the future melt away. She’d do everything in her power to prepare for any eventuality so her children won’t have to.   


They have plenty of friends and allies to help.

She wasn’t alone this time, not like she was when she entered the Galaxy Garrison under a false identity to find her brother and father. Lance is here too, alive, and has already proved to be an amazing father and leader and partner in all things.   


“Woah, there’s enough sentries here to make coffee tables for everyone at the Garrison.”

Hunk stands before them, bayard at the ready, blinking in amazement. He blanches upon seeing Lance, but Pidge gives him a thumbs up and what she hopes is an encouraging smile. He returns the gesture.   


“I’m going to check the other cells, make sure there aren’t any other prisoners,” he says.

His words, and Lance’s sentiments put her at ease. With hearts and minds focused on others, surely her preparations will never be needed.   


But she’s still going to make them. Once can never be too prepared. 


	20. Laced Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> took some inspiration from the backstory to GoLion! 
> 
> psychological horror, free fall, past forced to ingest liquid, non con touching from a hideous blob monster? how does one warn for that?
> 
> simultaneously open ended but yet also complete? depends on how you interpret the ending
> 
> light on the romance though Pidge's crush is mentioned and a good helping of protectiveness from each

Pidge knows this isn’t real.   


But it doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

“Child of Green, come to play with me?” a sweet, melodic voice airs. Incoherent whispers fill the void as the voice speaks over them.

The monstrous blob towers over her, taking up half of the view of this void. It isn’t unlike the Voltron mindspace, though something like lightning flashes above her - red, with the distinct feeling of wrongness.   


The drink she swallowed had tasted awful, but this was one quiznak of an aftertaste.   


“What a treat,” the voice sings delightfully.

Pidge’s breath hitches and she shuts her eyes tightly as slimy limbs creep over her shoulders and around her body, taking hold of her legs from behind, locking her in place to a chair - a chair that has no meaning or business being in this empty realm.

_ This isn’t real _ , Pidge tells herself as she swallows hard. Just a nightmare you’ll wake up from - a nightmare that just happens to be affecting all of her senses.   


“You think this is a nightmare?” the voice cackles. Thunder booms and Pidge jumps - though she’s held in place, and the shiver runs through her body. “Oh sweet, young Paladin. There is much you do not understand.”

“Y-you can read my mind? Ha. Of course you can. This is a dream - a hallucination. Anything can happen if I can think it,” Pidge says - wishing her voice was firmer than it came out.   


The monster cackles with glee. “Voltron is not the only being who can connect hearts and minds together.”

Pidge squirms as a piece of the monster slides into her ear, contorting itself to fit into all the nooks and crevices. She lurches forward, moving all she can to relieve the disgusting feeling. The creature snap another appendage around her neck, pulling Pidge back tight to the chair.   


The invasion of her body and lack of means to do anything about it sends her heart shuddering and sobs worm their way up her throat, terrified.

None of this is real. None of this is real.   


Lance is safe. Just endure this.   


“The Blue Paladin,” the monster purrs. “Oh no, he passes as the Red Paladin, but that isn’t who he  _ really  _ is. Voltron is  _ desperate _ .”   


Pidge can’t see - refuses to open her eyes, it’s a nightmare after all, the less she sees the less she’ll remember when she next dreams - but in her mind’s eye a grin emerges, like the Cheshire Cat.   


“Did Voltron ever tell you  _ why  _ he was roving the universe as a comet? Why he had to be molded by  _ mortal  _ hands?”

_ No _ , Pidge thinks. “Why would that matter?” she asks angrily. Perhaps the sooner this conversation is over, the sooner she’ll be back on Haggar’s ship and hopefully.... Hopefully they will have kept their promise to not hurt Lance.   


“To repent,” the voice says. “The Lion Goddess humbled Voltron by transforming it into the reality comet, forced to aimlessly wander all realities until he learned to revoke his murderous and violent tendencies.”

Pidge inhales sharply. That couldn’t be right. That isn’t what Allura told them.   


The voice cackles, clearly pleased. “You Paladins are piloting a death knight - the Lion Goddess’ own champion erred in his ways, overcome with  _ bloodlust _ .” The monster erupts with giggling like a small child. “One day, the Lions will consume you body and mind.”

Hot air, like breath, blow on Pidge’s face, and she can feel the monster inches away as it smugly says, “Just like they did your Black Paladin.”

“The Black Lion saved Shiro!” Pidge counters angrily, sharply turning her head away. How dare this creature try and twist the most fortunate thing that has ever happened to them?

“Did he?” the creature ponders, blessedly moving away, though Pidge remains confined. “Is the fire gone from his eyes? When was the last time he spoke of piloting the Black Lion again?”

Pidge opens her mouth to retort, but no words come out. Not right away. “That’s… that’s because Keith is--”

“It is because he is  _ terrified _ ,” the creature says, “to lose his mind when he’s already lost his body.”

“He got his body back!” she yells.

“A clone,” the creature corrects. “Do you want to know what happened to his original body?”

Pidge’s gut clenches because she knows the creature is right. Shiro’s body… isn’t actually his own.   


“ _ Devoured _ . Your fight against Zarkon ignited the bloodlust, and Takashi Shirogane paid the price.”

Pidge shakes. She wants to deny it all, but all of a sudden she cannot find the strength to do so.   


“H-how do you know all this?” she dares ask instead.   


The voice squeals in delight. “Wherever there is light, shadows are cast and in them I thrive.” A smooth limb gently strokes her cheek, a thick, sticky substance sliding down towards her mouth. Pidge locks it shut, terrified at not just the caress, but if they might be forcing her to ingest more of that poison in the real world and the slime is the physical manifestation of it here in this nightmare world.   


“I love chaos,” the creature continues. “Chaos is change, chaos is improvement - you understand that more than most, Green Paladin.”

The ground falls under Pidge’s feet. In hardly a tick no longer is she strapped to a chair but is free falling, air rushing past.   


Pidge screams, her heart racing. “It’s not real, it’s not real, it's not real!”

“Continue creating chaos for me, little Paladin. Change this universe into something completely new.

“ _ I’ll be watching _ .”

Pidge is still screaming when she opens her eyes.   


“ _ Pidge _ , Pidge are you all right?”   


No more creature. Lance is in her face, staring her down with the most frantic and concerned look in his eyes. They are back in the dark prison cell - no labs or mysterious chemicals in sight.   


Just the two of them, one of Lance’s hands on her cheek, his face so close she could--

She scrambles away before she is too tempted to plant her lips on his cheeks, or worse, as she’s so frazzled by her nightmare.

“I’m fine,” she says automatically, quick to hold herself, though Pidge isn’t entirely sure if that’s the truth.   


Lance shifts from his knees to sitting cross-legged, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t look fine, and you definitely didn’t  _ sound  _ fine.” He clenches his fist. “What did they do to you?”

His tone betrays a dangerous edge, one they’ll likely need if they are to escape.   


“They made me drink something and I hallucinated,” Pidge says truthfully. She offers him a smile, though by his unimpressed reaction it doesn’t come across as genuine as she’d hoped. She frowns. “I’m sorry to worry you.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay now,” Lance insists. He drags himself over, cozying his shoulder up to her own. “And now that you’re awake, we can plan on how we’re getting out of here.”

As if on cue, the alarms sound off. Through the barred window on the door, dim red lights dance across the hallway.   


The door miraculously slides open.

Pidge’s jaw drops. “Well,” she says, “I’m not going to let this go to waste. Let’s go!” Her heard pounds, the sooner they are out of here the sooner she can forget that awful nightmare.

Blood rushes to her face when Lance grabs her hand. “It’s probably chaos out there, better stick together,” he says with a wink.   


Pidge sucks in a breath, but convincing herself the melodic laughter she heard once Lance finished speaking was all in her imagination.   


“ _ Create some chaos for me, little Paladins _ .”

Pidge runs alongside Lance, but her mind is elsewhere. She’s sure the voice hadn’t used the plural in the dreamworld.   


Either her mind was already creating a warped version of her nightmare.   


Or it was all real and the creature was with them both. 


	21. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> American wild west AU
> 
> sheriff Lance/deputy Pidge

The world spins as the ground smashes into Lance’s face. The impact worsens his headache and hurts like a headbutt from Ol’ Kaltenecker, but he can hardly find the strength to really register the pain.   


No sooner as he finally manages to place a palm on the prairie ground to lift himself up, he’s dragged to his knees by his assailants. The jerking motion sends fresh, sharp wave of pain through the top of his head and he has to shut his eyes to not throw up at the swirly sights in front of him.   


“What’do we do boss? Shoot him? Hang him?” Levidy squeals in delight. “Maybe… maybe we can scalp ‘im?”

Lance groans. An idiot Levidy might be but he’s under no false pretenses that he would shoot Lance without hesitation if ordered. Not that Lance is any less of an idiot, riding out to check on a cattle rustling tip alone.   


Catch up on the paperwork, Pidge, then I don’t have to do it, Lance mocks himself. I’ll bring you back a nice steak for lunch no problem!

Even in his dazed state, he hears the train whistle. His heart sinks, even if they let him live, he won’t make it to the station on time to collect the package he ordered for Pidge.   


“I think our dear sheriff deserves to go out with a bit more pomp and circumstance, Levidy,” says the leader of the gang. Too smart for his own good, Steelman always seems to be two steps ahead of the law. If he’d just let Pidge come with instead of trying to keep her out of his elaborate surprise...

“Bind him,” Steelman orders. “And make it tight,” he continues almost cheerfully, “he’s proven to be slippery when he wants.”

Lance glares, willing Steelman - blurry as he is to Lance - to drop dead where he stands. Growling, he rises from knee to foot, working for leverage.

Steelman clicks the safety off his custom revolver and points it at Lance. “Let Levidy do his job, Sheriff. We’ll let you do yours in time.”

“I will see you get justice,” Lance vows, though he slumps to his knees, wrists already burning as he tugs at the rope snug to his skin. “You won’t get away with this. Everyone knows the train is coming for this herd, and the time.” He can’t help a smug grin. “You’ll be tracked down before you can take one steer.”

But Steelman’s cruel smile just grows wider and more menacing. “That’s where you’ve provided a surprising boon for us.” The rope winds around his chest, keeping his strained arms uncomfortably close to his body. “You see, trains stop automatically if there is an accident. And you, dear Sheriff, will provide us with that accident.”   


The rope tugs in exclamation before Levidy ties it off. It doesn’t hurt, but Lance’s chest constricts at the knowledge of what is to become of him.   


Levidy hauls him roughly to his feet and Lance refuses to move, he can at least stall for time in the slim chance someone else is out here. “I’m not going to help you with your insane plan.”

Steelman clicks his tongue in disappointment. “I’d hate to blow your brains out right here, it’d be a pity to sully the wildflowers.” He gestures forward with his gun. “Move.”

Lance stumbles forward, pushed from behind.   


He hates being out of control of the situation. The only one he’d ever trust to tie him up like this is back at the office doing paperwork because he was too lazy to bring her along and do it himself when he got back.   


Levidy drags him up the grassy hill by the collar of his shirt. Lance barely keeps up, unable to tell what is up or down, his boots and pants scraping on the dirt, throat tight every time he’s pulled.   


Finally, he’s allowed to lay on the ground. But this ground isn’t hard like the soil, its distinctly iron.   


Rail iron.   


“Nice and easy, Levidy, make the good sheriff comfortable.”   


Lance tries to focus, blinking rapidly until his head settles. The railroad track goes on as far as he can see - in the distance already he can see the steam from the engine of the Continental Express.   


And he lies in its direct path, neck literally on the chopping block when the wheels come rolling through.   


He should move, and he tries, but his legs are stuck. Levidy hovers over them with rope - tying him to the track then.   


Quiznak, he’s really going to die here.   


“Pidge is going to kill you,” he spits - at the very least he has his pride. “I guarantee you that.”

Steelman walks over the tracks and kneels, pistol still in one hand. The madman cups the other under Lance chin, and pushes back punishingly. Lance chokes, his neck strained so far that he can almost see behind him. His captor holds him there, looking him over as if examining golden specks on a rock.   


“I think I will miss you, Sheriff,” he says regretfully, though Lance knows its fake. “But do not worry about your little deputy. Her brains will be put to good use once I have her, and if not, there are other ways to put her to use.”

Lance inhales sharply. “Don’t you _touch_ her,” he seethes.

Steelman lightly pats his cheek, as if comforting a small child. “I will take good care of her,” he says cruelly, “I promise.”

“You worthless piece of s-mmmhhmmmm!” Lance yells angrily, as loud and as obnoxiously as he can even after the gag is tied at the back of his head.   


“Sweet dreams, Sheriff.” Steelman stands and tips his hat in mock respect. “I’ll toast to you later tonight as I take the train and your deputy to San Francisco.”

Then he leaves, out of sight far too quickly for Lance’s liking.   


Lance screams, squirms, twists, every type of movement he can think of to escape, but even as he loosens the rope slightly it holds fast, exhausting him and cutting into his skin.   


The train whistle is closer, he can see the line of freight cars rumbling over the hill. Lance struggles harder.   


Lance has regrets. Though he’ll die on the job - just the thought of being decapitated this way chews at his insides, not that he’ll be around to feel it much longer - he can’t help but think that he always expected to go out guns blazing like Shiro had, regardless of Pidge’s conspiracy theory that he was still alive.

He regrets not marrying Pidge years ago. Waiting until they could pass the badge on to someone else seems like foolishness when he reflects on it. She won’t even get the post-mortem cash from the government - at least she knows where his life savings are kept, she can use that to pick up the search for her brother again.

She’s going to receive the package addressed to him, ring intended for her, after he’s died. Because if he’s sure of one thing, Pidge will be able to outwit Steelman.

The ground rattles and him with it.   


The shrieking sound of the train breaking fills the air. It’s stopping, Lance realizes a flicker of hope. But it’s far too late. Even if the Conductor has seen him and applied the breaks he’s still going to die.   


Lance breathes heavy and rapidly, because soon he won’t have a head to do so at all. He cries in fear because no one will see him, there is no one to hide from.   


The train whistle gets louder. Lance can smell the burnt coals and feels the crackle of electricity from the wheels against the rails. The breaking becomes nearly unbearable in his ears, more shrill than barkeeper Coran singing in the saloon.   


The sky goes dark. A wheel brushes up against his neck.

And stops.   


No more squeal of the breaks, only the cooling down of the engine.   


He isn’t dead. In a rare moment, Lance can’t find his own voice as he stares directly up at the front of the engine. If the train had failed to stop any sooner than it did…

“Lance!”

Against all odds, his deputy and the love of his life jumps out of the engine, her signature green boots pounding on the ground.   


Never in his life has he been more overjoyed to see her.

Pidge kneels before him with horrified eyes behind her empty frames, ripping off his gag.

Lance gasps. “How did… you were at the office…”

She flops on top of him, which Lance immediately decides isn’t fair as he can’t exactly hug her back. “Like I was going to stay behind and do paperwork while you investigated something that smelled like Steelman and his flunkies,” she tells him with a choked voice.   


“But.. how did you know I’d be…”

Pidge sniffs. “Because he’s a showman. There’s no way he’d pass up something like this when he sees it in the movies. Quiznak, Lance,” she sobs into the rope around his chest. “I thought I was going to lose you.”   


Lance laughs, though he feels no humor in it. “I guess I can’t die, not as long as you’re my sidekick.”

Though she still cries, Lance catches the briefest of smiles and a distinct laugh among the tears. “We’ve talked about this, I’m not your sidekick, goofball.”

No more waiting. Not after this far too close for comfort incident. “What about my wife?”

A moment of silence before Pidge raises her head, an incredulous look on her tear stained face. “I just spent the last few hours in fear for you life, you nearly died, and you’re proposing now?”

Lance smiles, pleased to get a rise out of her - the thrill of catching his normally ‘prepared for anything’ deputy off guard. “I can’t think of a better time,” he says, pouring all sincerity into his voice.   


Pidge huffs in frustration, but yet she smiles. “How can I say anything but yes if you put it like that?”

He shifts uncomfortably, the soreness of being tied up finally getting to him. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day… but can you untie me before we kiss?”

Lance knows he’s screwed when Pidge gets a defiant gleam in her eye. “You don’t need your arms and legs to kiss me.”

Well, Lance thinks as she leans down and meets his lips with her own, at least the kiss is worth it. 


	22. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blood, gore
> 
> vampire au!

There is a knock on the door just as Lance finishes polishing the last of the silverware. He calmly puts the spoon in its proper place, in a wooden box between the box of knives and the box of forks. His nose twitches in distaste, surely it wouldn’t be difficult to combine both spoons and forks into the same utensil, then he’d be done with dishes in half the time.

The knock is more insistent the longer he tries to ignore it.

He growls in annoyance. Any other day and he  _ would _ ignore it. But Pidge hasn’t eaten today and needs her sleep. It’s his job as her butler to make sure her sleep is restful and everything around the house it taken care of before she wakes.   


He straightens his bow tie, and in the interest of letting Pidge sleep, walks much faster than any respectable butler should have to when the knocking only gets louder and more consistent. The villagers have known him for nearly two years now! They know it takes forever to get anywhere in this castle!

As much as he wants to tell them off, it won’t do Pidge any good for him to upset a visitor when he answers the door on her behalf. She needs less attention, not more.   


Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Lance grabs hold of the twin ring door knobs and pulls.

As he takes a step back and looks up, his eyes threaten to bug out. It seems as though the entire village is there, people lined up with torches all the way across the drawbridge, making a river of fire in this twilight hour. At the front, Mayor Rosen, torch shaking in his hand despite the terrible scowl on his face. Far more concerning to Lance, is at the mayor’s right hand, a darkly clothed man who hides his face behind a mask and a wide brimmed hat.   


Lance raises an eyebrow. “Can I… help you?” he begins, suddenly having a terrible feeling he knows why they’re here. The situation will call on every charm he has. “Supper was hours ago, and I’m afraid I didn’t cook enough for everyone.”

“No need for niceties, young man,” Rosen says with varying pitch. “You’re safe now, we’re only here for the vampire.”

Oh. It takes all of Lance’s willpower not to wince. This is exactly what he feared. He’d warned Pidge something like this might happen! She’d even  _ agreed _ with him! He kicks himself for allowing himself to get distracted by her tangent on electricity at the time. It was his job to keep her on task when they  _ both _ knew she had a difficult time with that.   


Outwardly, Lance sighs dramatically. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he tells the mayor. “The only people here are myself and my wife.”

The man in black hisses. “It’s too late to save this one,” he says in a raspy voice. “There’s no spell in his eye, he’s willingly in league with her.”

“If that is the only reason why you are here,” Lance interrupts before the mayor can protest. “Then I have nothing to offer you.” He bows, putting a hand on each door knob. He keeps his voice calm, but his heart races, unsure how much longer he can keep himself from a fight. “I bid you all a good night.”

He moves to close the door.

The man in black stops him.

Calloused hand grip the collar under his tie, and Lance grits his teeth.

“I will not leave until the vampire is turned to ash,” the man promises darkly.   


A burning flame ignites in his heart and Lance drops all pretense. “Don’t you  _ touch _ her,” he utters, each syllable dripping with anger. He drops a pen from his sleeve, a brilliant device Pidge made for him, and without needing to look flips it into a thin knife and stabs the man in the chest.

The vampire hunter’s eyes widen and Lance huffs, though he’s relieved that once again he’s been taken for granted. Easier to protect Pidge that way when he can surprise an assailant, something he’d learned from her.   


But the surprise doesn’t last long. The hunter’s eyes shine with pity - for Lance.   


“May your soul find peace,” he says.

Suddenly Lance’s stomach feels tight and cold. His breath hitches and despite knowing, dreading what he’ll see, he looks down to see the sword run through him.   


His knees weaken. It can’t… he can’t stop here. Pidge is still asleep. If they get through him they’ll get to  _ her _ . He wouldn’t be able to rest in peace if he allowed that to happen.   


So he flicks the switch on his pen as he falls to his knees. The knife elongates inside the hunter’s body, ripping through any tissue it came across. Lance smirks as the hunter chokes up blood, relaxing with the knowledge Pidge will be safe.   


Mayor Rosen backs up, trembling in fear. “We’re doomed! Run! Before the vampire kills us all!”   


In his haste, he drops his torch, setting ablaze the hallway carpet. Screams and shouts of panic from the crowd fill the air. Splashes count those who fall off the drawbridge into the moat below.

Without warning, the hunter draws his sword. Lance gasps and collapses to the floor, clutching the acute stinging sensation of his wound. On the other side of the growing flames, the hunter cackles.

“The vampire will know pain,” he says gleefully. “No longer will she have her precious food source. She will have to hunt, and then my brethren will corner her and  _ uh-- _ ”

Lance sees only glowing green eyes and a dark shadow before the hunter’s throat is ripped out of him.   


When the hunter’s body falls into the fire, Pidge stands before him with the most terrified eyes that have settled back into their usual amber color. Blood rims her open mouth and drips from her fangs onto what has already been splattered over her white nightgown.

“Lance! H-hold on!” she cries, stumbling towards him in the most ungraceful way.

He forces a smile for her, dropping his head into her shoulder as she effortlessly scoops him into her arms. It’s so warm in here, and with each passing second Lance feels more and more like having a nap. “Aw Pidge, look at what you went and did. It’s going to take forever to get the stains out.”

Pidge inhales sharply, lips wobbling and eyes shining with tears. “You idiot,” she says, though he knows she doesn’t really mean it. “I’m going to get you healed, don’t you dare fall asleep.”

“Of course, Mistress,” he chuckles. The portraits along the wall move by when he looks past Pidge’s face, the only indication she’s carrying him. He can’t feel much anymore.   


She glares at him. “This is no time to be cute, Lance.” The glare morphs quickly back to frightened eyes. “You’re… your stomach is… the smell of your blood is overwhelming.”

“I thought--” he coughs, something soft and liquidy caught in his throat, “som’tin delisc--”

He blinks.   


Softness envelops his world. Pidge is sitting over him, breathing heavily and looking terrified. Their location has changed - he knows her bedroom better than any in the house. The four-post bed is shrouded in the light purple linens and the fluffy white sheets pool up around him. Pidge’s most precious items, the picture of her family and her brother’s glasses lay untampered with on the dresser through the parted drapes and across the room. The open window brings the smell of burning wood and fibers from below - and a hint of metal? Perhaps the vases are melting.   


“Lance?”

Pidge’s voice is so soft he almost can’t believe it’s her. His brow furrows as he realizes he doesn’t feel pain from his wound he’s just…   


Just tired.   


His head rolls to the side, eyes fixed on the woman whom he’d befriended on a whim and she’d in turn whisked him away on an adventure, and whom he now gladly calls his wife.

She a vampire and he a human notwithstanding.   


Pidge examines him with concern, just as she would right before attempting a carefully prepared experiment. “How are you feeling?” she asks quietly, almost timidly.   


“I feel like I was swept down the river and spit out by a waterfall,” he says with a moan.   


Pidge takes a trembling hand and holds his cheek. Lance leans into the gentle warmth, humming in contentment. “G-good. I—“ she bites her lip, and stares at him. “You’ll need time to recover, but I think we should leave as soon as possible.”

Lance grins despite himself. “Finally going to introduce me to your parents?”

She glares at him, though Lance is glad to see an expression other than worry.   


“The villagers will return with a more dangerous foe if we do not,” she clarifies. “The fire will burn all evidence we were here. I’ve warded the room, we’ll be safe here we’re ready to leave.”

Restlessness stirs in his heart. This place has everything that makes Pidge happy - her lab, seclusion, and view of the most gorgeous sunsets on partially cloudy evenings. “I will protect you, Pidge,” he says seriously. “That’s why you let me  _ stay _ .”

Pidge shakes her head. “That’s not necessary.”

“We may be married, but I am still your tool, to use however you see fit,” he recites the words he gave her on their wedding day - just the two of them and a handful of friends and family.

“You’re not-- that’s a  _ cover _ , you know that.” She leans down, and the gentle kiss she places on his forehead makes him smile, feeling more relaxed than he has in ages. “You’re my husband first,” her voice wavers, “and it’s my job to protect you too.”   


Lance smirks. “And I’m thankful every single day that I’m with you. Give me a few days rest and my blood will have replenished itself and you can have yourself a little snack.”  _ In more ways than one _ , he winks and flashes her his most suggestive grin.   


Finally, to Lance’s relief, Pidge snorts. Though her eyes still shine with tears, he’s at least got a smile out of her. “You are such a child,” she teases.

Lance rolls his eyes, laughing himself. Of course a vampire as old as she would consider a mortal like him a child. “I’ll have you know I haven’t been a child for nearly a decade now.”

“An infant compared to the hundreds of years I’ve existed,” Pidge chuckles, childishly flopping next to him on the bed. Leaning her forehead into his shoulder, she sighs. “I’m so relieved that you're okay. You really scared me.”

He places a kiss at the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “Rest. Healing took a lot out of you.”

A light snore fills the void between them and Lance lets himself melt into the bed, happy and relaxed.   


She’s right, they will probably have to leave, as much as he hates it. But it would simply be the new chapter in their adventure together and right now, he’ll soak in this moment of peace. 


	23. Secret Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> canon compliant, post series, established relationship

Lance groans, limping towards the door. With a heavy sigh, he leans against the frame and yelps when the sharp edges of the mailbox dig into his arms. Hissing, he rubs the indentation on his arm.

It still doesn’t hurt as much as the wound in his side.   


Pidge was going to kill him.   


A comfortable bed calls to him though, so he swipes his electronic key over the lock. When the lock turns green, he leans into the door and pushes it open. Soon sweet sleep will be his and hopefully by morning he’ll be less stiff and he won’t have to tell Pidge about how he  _ fell down the stairs _ .   


She would never let him live it down. What kind of flight instructor falls down a  _ flight _ of stairs.   


The sweet scent of pine greets him. Ahh, the relaxing aroma of air freshener. Now to head to the bedroom, very slowly, and just sink into the mattress…

“Daddy!”

Lance screams in pain as a tiny head rams into his wound, setting his muscles on fire. His head hits the floor and when he opens his eyes, bright blue ones inches from his own stare back.   


“Welcome home,” his daughter says with a sweet smile, wrapping her small arms around his chest.

“Hey sweetheart,” Lance manages to say while trying not to scream. “You’re home early.”

A high pitched whine makes Lance turn his head, and he sees the culprit. Kosmo sits obediently off to his right, shaking his fluffy tail (it butts up against the coffee table, which slides to and fro with the cosmic wolf’s tail).   


Lance shuts his eyes in resignation. Now he’ll probably have to calm his daughter’s teacher - a teleporting cosmic wolf still isn’t a sight most are used to. “You can walk her home like a normal dog, you know. Stop and smell the roses?”

Kosmo tilts his head questioningly.   


Lance sighs deeply and winces - his wound is further aggravated for his troubles. “You can go home now, tell Keith thanks.”

A slobbery tongue stretches his skin as Kosmo licks his face, before poofing to… probably wherever Keith was at the moment.   


“Okay, kiddo,” Lance declares. Slowly and with tears in his eyes he lifts his daughter and himself to an upright position. “Where’s Mom?”

She shrugs, arms flapping to her sides. “Dealin’ with Paladin stuff.”

His heart skips a beat, eyes straining. He and Pidge haven’t told their daughter much about their Paladin past, still too young to really understand (though they’ll probably have to soon,it won’t be long before she’ll be hearing about them through history books).

“What… kind of Paladin stuff?” he asks carefully. He could kick himself, of course she wouldn’t know.   


“Palla-dinny,” she giggles.   


“Okay, got it,” Lance chuckles, though he doesn’t feel the laughter. Is he supposed to call the Atlas? He’s been at the Galaxy Garrison all day between teaching and the hospital wing! They’d have told him if there was an emergency for the Paladins specifically right? Particularly if his wife is involved?

The telephone rings.   


Ignoring the pain and fueled by a growing sense of dread, he scrambles up for the telecomm.   


“Lance!”   


Hearing Pidge’s voice immediately sets him at ease. She’s okay. He slumps down to the floor rests his head against the wall. “Pidge, I’m glad you’re okay. What’s going on?”

A gentle purr rumbles in the back of his mind. Suddenly, he’s no longer home, but in a dark void, illuminated by streaks of blue and white streaming across the black sky.   


The Blue Lion sits before him.

There’s no need for Pidge to finish.

A wry smile twitches on his face. “Hey, Girl,” he says softly. Blue’s comforting warmth washes over him like the gentle waves on a calm day at the beach. “Welcome back. You and Allura need our help?”

Blue stretches and roars before bending down to extend her ramp. A rush of adrenaline Lance hasn’t felt in a long time surges through him. It was time for a new adventure.   


“D-daddy?”

The happy warmth turns to dread when Lance looks over to see his young daughter standing in the void with him, eyes wide with terror.   


He scoops her up in his arms, ignoring the protest of his side. His daughter’s fears are far more important than any wound he will ever receive.   


“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he repeats, bouncing her up and down as best he can like he’s done so many times before. “This is Blue, she’s a very special friend of mine.”

“I wanna go home,” she sniffles, burying her face in his shirt. “This place is scary.”

“We will, we will. Blue is going to take us out of here…” he peers up to the Lion’s brilliant yellow eyes. “Right, Blue?”

A rumble of affirmation… but also images of darkness, terrors more dangerous than space pirates.   


Lance takes a deep breath. It seems like he and Pidge will be giving their daughter the Paladin Talk sooner than they ever expected.   


Time to go save the universe. Again. 


	24. Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Chapter ten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856203/chapters/49928498#workskin)! 
> 
> threat of genetic experiments on humans, unresolved ending, established relationship

Lance decides that this must be the universe’s cruel joke.  


A younger him relished in the 007 films, Bond was a hero - an awesome spy, smooth with the ladies, and  _ always  _ won. The villains were sinister and over-the-top, calculating and just dumb enough to let Bond have a bit of leeway in their effort to be ‘gentlemanly’.

But that was Hollywood. The reality Lance faces now, as he’s made to sit roughly on a lightly padded chair, is very real.  


And Lance is not Bond. He has no tricks and tools to get himself out of this. His partner in both the romantic and mission sense, his Q and also his sidekick of the movie, is in peril as well.  


Though Pidge is no sidekick. Lance’s heart pounds as his guard cuffs his wrists to the armrests of his chair, the chains long enough to reach his spot on the table. Pidge is given the same treatment, sitting directly across from him at the long, narrow table. If anything, he’s the romantic interest to her 007, captured only for the Commander to further indulge in his interest in  _ her _ .  


Bond had better clothes too - a three piece suit (or better yet his Paladin armor) would inspire more confidence than this prison uniform, identical to the one Shiro once wore and what Pidge now does, with the exception of his blue rags over top the undersuit.  


No wonder this guy has a thing for Pidge, he’s obsessed with color-coding too.  


Pidge is noticeably nervous, her eyes flickering between him and the door to his right. That must be where he’ll catch his first view of their host, Lance surmises.  


No, not host. Captor. Galra Commander. He can’t think like he’s in the movies anymore.  


Lance flashes her a reassuring smile. So long as he entertains this guy, they’ll both be alive at least, and as long as they are alive there will be a chance to escape.  


The side of Pidge’s mouth twitches upwards and it sets Lance’s heart at ease, for now.  


The door swishes open.  


Tall and slender, Commander Livik wears a grey cape, adorned with several medals that clasp to his traditional commander’s chestplate. He’s clearly done much in the service of the Galra Empire, and those things must be truly terrible to have risen him to his rank and earned his decorations.  


“Welcome, Paladins,” he begins, placing a hand at the top of the chair at the head of the table and pulling it out. “Particularly you,” he gestures to Lance. “By what name do you go by?”

Livik is so cordial is sends shivers down Lance’s spine, and immediately he doesn’t want to answer - until he catches Pidge nodding curtly out of the corner of his eye.

This isn’t the battle he should be fighting.  


“Lance,” he says with a smile through his curdling stomach. Giving the Galra what they want feels so  _ wrong _ on so many levels. “You must be Livik?”

“ _ Commander _ Livik, to you, Paladin Lance,” he says, taking his seat. He laces his fingers together, bright yellow eyes boring through him. Though he smiles, there is a dangerous edge to his voice. “While on my ship, we’ll address each other properly. The two of you are my prisoners of war, and so long as Emperor Zarkon requires your breath, I will acknowledge your reason for being held in such high regard so long as you acknowledge my authority.  


“Understood?”

_ Stay alive.  
_

How badly he wants to show defiance - but with the Blue Lion out of commission, playing a game where he just ends up hurt or worse doesn’t make sense.  


So Lance swallows his pride when he voices a firm and curt, “Understood.”

Livik raises a bushy eyebrow and extends a claw. “Understood…?” he prompts.

“Understood, Co- _ Commander _ .” It’s harder to say than Lance expected, and his heart feels dirty, weighed down with a feeling of betrayal.  


Livik nods in satisfaction and leans back into his chair, clapping twice. The guards behind his and Pidge’s chairs scatter.  


“Paladin Katie has been telling me much about your home planet,” Livik begins.  


Lance’s eyes widen as they dart to Pidge. Katie? Pidge had given him her _ birth name _ ? The one that she only lets Shiro use on  _ occasion _ ? Pidge shakes her head. Not now.

“Your species is at a fascinating place in history - just on the cusp of interstellar travel but still blissfully unaware of what awaits you out here. There is much the Empire could learn and implement into our expansion strategies, which is what I’m interested in, rather than simply conquering your planet outright.”

_ Leverage _ , Lance’s heart freezes and his breath hitches when he gasps. With Voltron separated and damaged, there is nothing stopping any one of the Galra fleets from making the journey back to Earth and setting it ablaze. His family…  


Pidge has her head down, but she bites her lip hard and her shoulders tremble. She’s thinking of her family too. Livik has already given her the same speech.  


This is why she’s been telling him what he wants to know. And more.

This is why  _ Lance _ is about to tell him what he wants to know.

Livik grins cruelly at his reaction. “While most commanders train only their body and engage in crude and simple methods in subjugation, I exercise my mind. So, until I receive orders otherwise, I will take advantage of my prerogative as your captor. I wish to hear about the planet that forged the mighty Paladins of Voltron and everything about your species; your mental and physical capabilities, how you spend your daily lives and most  _ especially _ your life cycle.”

Birth to death. Lance feels weak in the knees at the implication. Pidge hadn’t been kidding.  


So he scoffs, putting on a good-natured grin. “If you wanna know about my childhood, I have loads of awesome stories,” Lance brags, though he knows deep in his gut he’s only stalling.  _ Entertain. Be the entertainment _ , he tells himself. “Human kids are super curious and we’re always getting into things, climbing trees, thinking we’re invincible. I mean, I was swimming before I could even walk--”

The two guards return to the room, wheeling a cart full of dishes. One is placed in front of him and the cover lifted to show a steak of some kind, a yellow colored mash next to it. It smells delicious to his aching belly and he swallows his own saliva in anticipation.  


“Yalmore steaks with Daltearan style pudding,” Livik says. “Protein and dairy are large parts of your diet, yes?”

Pidge winces. Lance realizes she hasn’t chimed in on the conversation and part of that kills him. She’s being very cautious, and part of Lance worries he isn’t going about this the right way.  


But it's the only way he knows aside from outright defiance - talk them to death.  


“I mean, a good thing I grew out of being lactose intolerant then,” Lance laughs nervously. A kid on a dairy farm who couldn’t have milk was a tad embarrassing in hindsight, though he knows it wasn’t his fault in the slightest, just the luck of the draw genetically.  


Livik hums. “Humans can grow out of an illness? Fascinating. Your species is very adaptable.” He takes a spork and what Lance decides is far too big of a knife, and cuts into his own steak. “Please, eat,” he offers. “There is no poison. I have already explained I have more use of you alive.”

Lance watches Pidge closely once Livik begins his own meal. She is slow, her arms not having the reach as his own, made worse by the chains restricting her movement, but she puts a piece of steak in her mouth… and chews very slowly.

_ Make the meal as long as possible _ , Lance realizes. He nods at her, message received.  


So he does. He chats Livik’s ears off, recounting one embarrassing story after the other - with the bonus of entertaining Pidge, even she allows herself to snort once or twice, before pretending not to care.  


How many members are in his family? How long did it take for your leg to heal when you fell climbing that tree? How long do you sleep? What are your favorite foods?

“Garlic knots, hands down,” Lance responds instead of shoving the next (very small) piece of meat into his mouth. Its grown cold now, and while still decent, isn’t nearly as tasty as it was when it was fresh. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had it fresh out of the oven, the soft parts melting in your mouth while you taste the slightest crunch of the bottom.”

“When I arrive on Earth, I will make an effort to try it,” Livik says with a casualness that makes Lance go cold. The commander is long finished with his own meal. He now sits with his elbows on the table, fingers laced near his chin. “What…” he pauses, tapping a finger on his knuckles, humming in thought, “country, was it? What country are they from?”

Stunned at how specific Livik is getting, Lance swallows before responding. “Well, we haven’t had countries since before World War Three, but I guess they’re kinda from the Italian region?”

Livik hums in recognition as he turns to Pidge. “Where your ancestors are from, correct?”

Quiznak, what  _ hadn’t  _ Livik talked about with Pidge?

She nods, and takes a shuddering breath. “Like Lance said, it isn’t really a thing anymore. My family hasn’t lived anywhere near there in several generations.”

Commander Livik tchs and leans back into his chair. “A pity you weren’t born Galra instead. The Empire is always in need of sharp minds.”  


There’s something in his tone that utterly terrifies Lance. Like he’s leading them to something very bad. Very, very bad.  


Livik turns to him again. “I watched your reunion in the suite,” he confesses, though it sounds more like a statement of fact rather than an admission of guilt. “It was extremely touching. You both care for each other very much.”

Lance really does not like where this is going. He’s going to use their relationship against them. Lance kicks himself for believing this wasn’t coming. Not to mention the fact that he was spying on them the entire time was humiliating to think about. Pidge’s eyes are wide, clearly having the same line of thought.  


“I’d very much like to see how a typical human relationship progresses. So please, use the suite  _ however  _ you see fit. I’ll provide you both physical examinations regularly to make sure you both remain healthy during your stay. Eventually I may add extra variables, but over the next few months I’d like to establish a constant.”

Pidge looks ashen, her mouth hanging open before she asks, “What… kind of variables?”

Livik smiles, looking utterly pleased. “Ever inquisitive. I’ve grown quite fond of you Paladin Katie. Provided I can find success in the genetic splicing experiments ongoing in my laboratory, I can find legal means to adopt you into the family.”

“Woah, woah, hold on,” Lance interrupts. An angry fire ignites under his skin and suddenly his bonds feeling incredibly tight. “You’re not going anything to Pidge.”

The commander doesn’t skip a beat. “Fear not, Paladin Lance. If the trials are successful, you’ll join her.”

“You’re  _ insane _ ,” Pidge hisses. Finally, after the entire dinner, she’s snapped. Her amber eyes look like a stormcloud over a prairie. “You can’t just  _ turn  _ someone into another species. That’s not how that works.”

“Trials will continue,” Livik says calmly. He takes a napkin and dabs it around his mouth. “If not you, well, then I would be sated with your children. Early development is an extremely crucial stage no matter who in the universe you are.”

Pidge continues to seethe and sling curses in Livik’s direction. The commander largely ignores her, and gives his guards the order to escort both him and Pidge back to their room. Lance feels frozen. Surely he’s wandered into a nightmare and he’ll wake up at any moment.  


The rough pinch on his arm as the guard grabs him tells Lance that this is no dream. 


	25. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> supernatural earth au? mythical creature?
> 
> little bit of blood
> 
> Look at this beautiful art Lee made for this chapter: https://rueitae.tumblr.com/post/616313263290007552/a-haunted-sock-sorry-for-posting-two-days-in-a

Lance absentmindedly shuts the car door with a thud, his senses overcome with the sheer presence of this place.  


The mansion left to him by his late grandfather is surprisingly well preserved for its setting deep in the forest. Vines creep around the ornate tresses while pine and birch obscure its view further down the road - their roots upending some of the stone foundation.  


Lance had almost thought the forest ranger’s directions were wrong, but it seemed Keith really did know this place like the back of his hand.  


The chill fall breeze carries fallen leaves around the still warm engine of his car. Lance shivers. Leave it to his recluse grandfather to have lived in such a place that looks like it could fit into a Halloween film. He’d have preferred to come during the summer, but the Will stated he need to visit by today’s date.

Lance huffs and glares again the place. “Well, let's go see what Grand-Dad thought was more important than his family.”

Grandpa McClain all but disappeared after his wife passed away and apparently this is where he stayed - not that any of them knew that until Lance found himself in ownership of it through the Will. Mom and Dad had been suspicious when the extravagant gifts (that he never used to be able to afford) came for the grandchildren with no grandfather in sight.  


Lance opens the large door, wanting to know why his beloved grandfather left them to become a rich recluse. He steps in, walking over the cobwebs, wanting to understand why his siblings will spend the rest of their lives with perfectly happy memories of him, when all Lance can recall of him is getting a remote control airplane.  


The cold air is made worse inside, where its stuffy and still. Lance bends over between two armchairs and pushes, having to put more muscle into it than he expected, making the window fly open.  


A moth flutters in past him and as if by magic, the air around him fills with the sweet scents of spring flowers. Lance inhales deeply, mood lifting slightly by the refreshment.  


Until he turns around.

The living room is clean. The furniture looks as bright and colorful as it must have when it was first made and a fire crackles below the chimney.

Lance raises an eyebrow warily. He’s heard stories that this forest contains ancient magic, but never has he believed them. Children’s stories, he figured.  


But the fire  _ is _ rather nice and surely it was just his senses playing tricks on him to have missed something so obvious as the fire. So he treads over and kneels down, moving the wood closer to the center of the fire, beckoning it to burn brighter. He sighs. He doesn’t know where he’s going to start cataloging things. How is he supposed to know what things his grandfather held most dear? Of all the grandchildren, he knew him the least.  


He looks up, hoping for some inspiration in the painting above the fireplace.  


But there’s a  _ girl _ sitting atop the mantle.

Not just any girl. Antenna that remind him of a summer wheat field twitch inquisitively above her auburn colored hair. A furry cloak of greens, browns, and purples cover her shoulders - not unlike the moth that had just flittered inside.  


Lance screams, falling onto his butt, crawling backwards with everything he has until he crashes into the sofa.  


The girl tilts her head and frown. “Why are you screaming?” she asks. Standing, her cloak is more like a shawl wrapped around her body down to her knees. Her bare and shoeless legs remain nearly glued together as she jumps daintily down to the floor. “Am I not the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen?”

Lance’s jaw drops. Oh Quiznak, she was  _ talking _ . “No. No way. Mythical creatures aren’t real.”

The girl’s eyes narrow darkly. “And I thought you humans had manners.” She clears her throat. “Will Silas be arriving later, then?”

His blood goes cold. “How... do you know my grandpa?” Lance asks cautiously.  


Her face lights up with delight. “You are one of Silas’s grandchildren? That’s  _ great _ ! I’ve heard so much about you!” In a flourish, the shawl unfolds into a pair of brilliant wings that takes Lance’s breath away. Her body is covered in a tight-fitting green dress, adorned with colorful flowers.  


She’s in his face a moment later, clasping his hands. “Which one are you? Marco, Luis?”

Lance’s heart beats wildly, blood rushing to his cheeks at such close proximity to a girl as lightly clothed as she. He’d be the first to admit how much of an incorrigible flirt he is, but this goes beyond a waggle of the eyebrows and display of finger-guns.  


“I’m Lance,” he chokes.  


“Lance!” Inexplicably she drags him into a tight hug and the suggestiveness of having her on top of him while on the floor is not lost to him. “The  _ baby _ !” she declares.

All awkwardness is lifted instantly.  


“Who are you calling ‘baby’?” he shrieks, far more high pitched than he’d intended. He shoves her off of him, standing clumsily and backpedaling as far from her as he can. “Who even  _ are _ you?”

The brightness in the girl’s eyes dims, the lines of her mouth falling. “I’m Pidge,” she says, wings drooping and Lance isn’t sure if he imagines it, but the colors seem to fade. “He… never told you about me?”

“He hardly ever talked to us after grandma died,” Lance says in frustration. “Apparently,” he continues with growing anger, “because he was hanging out with you.”

To Pidge’s credit, she takes the accusation with grace, inhaling deeply through her wobbling lip. “Silas was the kindest human I ever knew. I can’t believe the sweet grandson of his is rude and cruel.”

“You took my grandpa from me!” Lance seethes. “What did you do? Put him under a spell to forget about us?”   


Pidge gasps. “I would  _ never-- _ ”

“I’m leaving,” Lance declares. He’s had enough of this magic that isn’t supposed to exist but does. How could Grand-Dad care about a flighty mythical creature over his own flesh and blood? The mere thought makes his blood boil. “I’m going home. Keep all his stuff, I don’t need any of it.”

And Lance thinks that’s the last he’ll ever see of her.  


“Wait, you can’t leave!”

The door slams shut in his face, stopping Lance from going outside. He clenches his fists and turns sharply. “Are you going to keep me prisoner like you did him?”

“It's not like that!” Pidge closes the distance between them, but thinks better of approaching too close when Lance growls. “Your grandfather saved my  _ life _ . I swore I would spend it protecting him and his kin. So long as you or any of your relatives stay here, you’ll be blessed with natural health and riches beyond your wildest dreams.”

So that’s how he’d gotten rich so quick.  


“No,” Lance replies quickly, not even needing to think about it. “I don't need any of that stuff. Goodbye.”

He tries the door. Its locked.  


“You don’t understand,” Pidge implores of him. “I  _ swore _ an oath. Your family is my family. I’ll be here for your grandchildren's grandchildren. Just ask Silas, he understood. He  _ promised _ to leave the house to one of you.”

“I can’t ask him,” Lance snaps. “Because he’s dead. He gave me the house, but I’m only here to collect his things.”

Pidge’s antenna fall flat over her hair. “He’s dead.” It isn’t a question, she seems to at least understand the concept.  


“Yes, so would you let me go,” he continues with a glare. “I’ve had enough of his magic hullabaloo.”

Her breath hitches and her skin is noticeably more pale. Her hands shake. “It’s late,” she rasps with tears in her eyes. “Stay the night at least. You - you can go home in the morning if you want.”

Lance huffs. He wants to leave now, it isn’t nearly that late and his car headlights work perfectly fine… but there’s something in the way about how sickly she looks right now that gives him pause.  


He pinches his brows. “Okay. I’ll stay the night,” he relents.

Pidge’s demeanor remains unchanged, but she does smile just a little bit. “Thank you,” she says softly.

**~~~~~**

Lance wraps the blanket closer to his shoulders and shivers. The rest of the mansion is still freezing, enough so that even the covers of the bed don’t provide the warmth he needs in the middle of the night. So he finds himself sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace, stroking the fading embers.

“I should have gone home,” he grumbles.  


Behind him, Pidge coughs.  


Lance sighs and throws his head back. His mother would never forgive him for being so cruel to a lady, supernatural being or not. He grabs his phone from his back pocket and turns on the flashlight.

“You okay?” he asks as he walks over to her. For the last several hours she’s kept to herself, simply lying on the couch as if to sleep.  


Lance shines the light on her and gasps.

Her wings are translucent, no longer vibrant with color. Her skin is deathly pale and she pants for breath as if she had pneumonia.  


Lance drops to his knees beside her. “Hey, Pidge. What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Pidge opens her eyes to acknowledge him for just a moment before wincing in pain. “I… I  _ swore _ ,” she sobs.  


“Yeah, I remember,” Lance says, hands hovering over her - quiznak, he has  _ no idea _ what to do! “But you don’t have to. I don’t want you to.”

Almost as soon as the words leave his mouth, Pidge goes into a spasm, coughing up blood. “Can’t,” she rasps, “can’t break a promise.”

Oh.

Oh sweet mercy. Lance may have just been introduced to actual magic only earlier today, but he gets the gist now. Pidge had  _ literally _ sworn. With magic. Somehow she’d bound herself to helping Grand-Dad and if she didn’t fulfill her end of the bargain... She was dying because  _ he  _ didn’t want her around.

Grand-Dad had known this. That’s why he gave Lance the house.  


“I’ll stay,” Lance blurts out. “I’ll move in. Quiznak, I didn’t know _your_ _life_ depended on this!”  


A pale green glow surrounds Pidge as soon as he says the words. The lights in the living room turn on and the fireplace reignites in full force. Her breathing calms and pink returns to her cheeks. Slowly, she opens her eyes, a soft smile on her face.  


“He knew you’d stay,” she breathes quietly. “Thank you. I didn’t want to die alone if you didn’t.”

Lance falls to his bum, near speechless at the turn of events. He doesn’t know how he’s going to work this out - he has a life back in the city. For now, he’s just glad Pidge doesn’t suffer at the cost of his ignorance.  


“I was dying when he found me,” Pidge tells her. “Stuck in a hunter’s trap. So I swore my life to make sure his was the best it could possibly be and the contract just… came out like that.” Tears fall from her eyes. “My father used to tell me that once I found a good mortal, they’d be just like family. Your grandfather was so kind, and reminded me of my own father so much,” she chuckles “always telling me I was like a grandchild to him even though I was hundreds of years older. So please understand,” she says looking into his eyes. “That’s why I tied my life to his bloodline - to  _ your _ bloodline.”

Lance sighs deeply, defeated. “What am I supposed to say to that? It doesn’t feel right.”

“There are benefits to me too,” she says, a teasing grin growing on her face. “That you’ll find out in time.”

Lance stands and takes the blanket from his shoulders and lays it on top of Pidge. “Get some rest. We have a lot to sort out tomorrow.”

She’s snoring softly before he even finishes, a smile permanently stuck to her face. Lance grabs a smaller blanket from over top of an armchair and sits down.  


He doesn’t know how much sleep he’ll be getting personally tonight with all the new information running through his head. Adrenaline works against his weary body. He still can’t fathom why his grandfather would enter into such a deal with a creature like Pidge.

Well, it seems he’ll have a while to figure it out. 


	26. Ransom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire and werewolf au
> 
> vampire bite, kidnapping
> 
> Lee made art for this chapter too. She spoils me. Please go look at it: https://rueitae.tumblr.com/post/616313263290007552/a-haunted-sock-sorry-for-posting-two-days-in-a

For the third time since he began his walk, Lance loosened the tie around his neck. Though he’s already fiddled with it twice, it still feels far too restrictive, choking him.  


Just as the trio that follows him feels equally suffocating.  


He’d love nothing more than to get them off his figurative tail, but to do so risks the wrath of his oldest brother, so he has to stick with his current plan. But as he gets closer to the cafe, the anxiety in his heart grows. He bites his lip, only to hiss in pain.  


What kind of vampire bites his own lip?

“Hey, Mosquito,” a teasing voice calls from the end of the alley, shaking Lance out of his thoughts.

Pidge leans against the red brick of the cafe, a smug grin plastered on her face.  


Lance bristles, heat rushing to his cheeks, fear momentarily forgotten. “Just because you heard my mom call me that  _ once  _ does not mean you can use it too.”

"But that's what you are, right?” she says, kicking off from the wall and walking towards him. Her own fangs glint off the light from the street lamps. Though they serve a different purpose than his, they are just as deadly. “Annoying, always buzzing around my ear?"

A shadow in his periphery catches his attention. Like a flash of lightning, Lance remembers what he has to do.  


“Good to see you too, Pidge,” he says quickly, meeting her halfway. He takes her arm - gentlemanly, he’s a vampire not an animal - and guides her out towards the heavily populated street. “Let’s find a seat at the cafe.”

She goes along with him, though gives him a good sniff from his midsection up to his neck. “You’re scared,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, my cousins don’t know where I am. They’re not gonna come and beat you up.” She grins teasingly. “Besides, they know I can take you in a fight.”

_ That’s exactly the problem _ , Lance frets.  


“You should give them a phone call, just to tell them where you are. You can even blame me,” Lance offers, quickening his pace. Almost to the street. Almost to safety.  


Pidge frowns and stops, dragging Lance backwards and facing her. “Okay, you’re acting weirder than normal. What gives?”

A flash of movement in the alleyway tells Lance he’s out of time. “Run!” he yells, yanking Pidge forward.

He doesn’t get two steps before two cloaked figures block their exit. Sharp claws dig into Lance’s arm. Pidge has finally realized she has all the reason in the world to be afraid.  


“Leave her alone!” Lance says as firmly as he can, stepping between them and Pidge. “She isn’t involved in our fight!”  


“Perhaps not,” a familiar, sinister voice says from behind.  


Lance’s blood runs cold as he turns. They’d sent Dimitri to tail him, one of the leaders of his coven. His brother was dead serious about kidnapping Pidge.  


“But she will agitate the dogs,” Dimitri continues smugly as he approaches. “And that will be plenty enough to ensure they make a mistake, and a mistake on their part means they will finally be out of our territory.”

Pidge growls. “Territory that  _ you  _ stole. Great Uncle Alexandre was keeping this town safe for hundreds of years while you ungrateful bloodsuckers were  _ sleeping  _ blissfully. He died on a pyre so your coffins wouldn’t get flushed down the river!”  


It happens so quickly even Lance with his superhuman reflexes can’t stop it.  


Dimitri snatches Pidge from his protective grasp and holds her to the alleyway wall by her neck, her legs dangling in the air and kicking against the brick. Lance moves to help her, but strong hands wrap around his arms, holding him back.  


“It has been hundreds of years since I have tasted wolf blood,” Dimitri airs. Lance’s heart skips a beat at the implication, but it breaks him more to see Pidge’s usually sharp eyes filled with fear.  


Dimitri lowers her to his eye level and leans in closer. “Let us see if the blood of a country wolf is as pure as a city one.”

“Stop! Don’t! Please!” Lance beggs.  


“Let me go!” Pidge shrieks.  


Her cries are silenced to a pitiful whine when Dimitri sinks his fangs into the veins in her neck.  


Lance falls to his knees. “Don’t hurt her, please. She’s not even lived two decades.”

Dimitri takes a long, agonizing sip before removing his fangs from Pidge’s skin. She slumps over, exhausted and unconscious. Dimitri carries her easily. Lance is relieved he doesn’t suck her dry.

“What power,” he says, examining the palm of his hand. It sparkles with a green glow, the extra quintessence from Pidge that Dimitri’s body can’t contain. “You were holding out on us, Lance, trying to get the first bite out of her.”

“I wasn’t!” he hisses. “Pidge is a friend. I wouldn’t hurt her like that.”

“A friend indeed,” Dimitri says snidely. “It was your  _ friendship  _ that brought her to our attention. Now you’ll do your part to see that the dogs leave the city. Assuming she won’t want to rip out your heart, make sure she stays in the guest room.”

~

So hours later, that’s where Lance is - sitting by Pidge’s bedside waiting for her to wake.  


True to Dimitri’s word, it truly is one of the guest rooms. She has a large bed all to herself - a modern one with all the comforts of soft pillows and warm blankets. Pidge has no wounds other than the bite marks - which makes Lance snap part of his chair off every time he looks at them - so as long as she rests, she’ll recover.

Recover enough to go home once the ransom is paid, for the werewolves to leave the city.  


He places a cool, wet cloth over her forehead, having soaked it in the wash bin for the fifth time since being placed on caretaker duty. There’s no sense in trying to escape with her from here, not when they’re surrounded by far more ancient and more powerful of Lance’s brethren.  


He’s really screwed up this time, putting her in this situation. He should never have agreed to meet her tonight. Curse his soft heart for thinking he could warn her - just so long as he could see her again. More than blood her presence is addicting and hanging out with him seemed to make her happy - and that’s all he wants for her.  


Pidge moans and Lance sits up on alert from this first sound she’s made since arriving here.  


Lance takes her hand, desperate for more of a response from her. “Pidge?” He just wants to know if she’s okay.  


Amber eyes flutter open and find him. He can tell her brain works overtime from the puzzled expression on her face, trying to remember and figure out where she is.  


“You’re safe for now,” Lance assures her, squeezing her hand in comfort. “My brother wants you alive.”

Pidge’s eyes burst open and she bolts up, looking around wildly. “W-where am I? What did your dumb relatives  _ do _ to me?”

“The basement of the Castle,” he says regretfully. “I’m so sorry Pidge. I tried to tell them not to do this. They’re… talking with your cousins now to negotiate your release.”

Worse than seeing her still, Pidge shakes, uncertainty all about her. “O-oh. I see,” she says, not looking at him. She laughs humorlessly. “Not exactly the cool vacation I hoped for when I came to town.”

Heart breaking for her, Lance moves to sit on the bed with her, wrapping her in a hug. “I know. I’m so sorry… h-how are you feeling?”

Relief fills him when she leans back into him. “Kinda groggy still. Transforming last night for the full moon took a lot out of me to begin with.” Her small hands grab a fistfull of his suitcoat. “I hate this stupid war. When they let me go, come with me to the country. You don’t have to deal with their idiocy anymore.”

The offer of an idyllic life in the country is temping. Though he’d lose everything he loves about the city, the people, the conveniences, his family - he’d gain Pidge and we would have to pretend to be a bully towards the werewolves anymore. His mother would approve, he knows it.  


But then he wouldn’t know if he’d see her ever again.

Before he can answer, the door unlocks. In walks both Dimitri and Lance’s own brother, the leader of their entire coven.  


Pidge snarls, and if not for the strength of his arms around her, would have attacked the two most powerful vampires in the city.  


“Let me go!” she demands. “I’ve had enough of your stupid city politics. You’re all killing each other needlessly!”

Dimitri licks his lips, hands clasped neatly behind his back. “Recovered already. Werewolf regenerative abilities are truly astounding. Shall I take another bite of her, Boss?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Lance interjects before his brother can say anything.  


The Boss, as he wants to be known by these days, chuckles darkly. “I think my little brother might have a problem with you sucking more life out of his wolf. You’re right, of course, to be active so soon after losing so much blood is a feat… a very valuable one.”

“N-no,” Lance gasps, a heavy pit falling to his stomach. “Please don’t. You promised you’d let her go.”

“I promised to set her free once the werewolves pay ransom. They refuse to pay.”

Lance feels the exact moment Pidge freezes in fear, because her claws dug into his skin. His pants are ruined but he doesn’t care at all. How could they not pay to take her back? She’s family - visiting family at that!

“You can’t be serious,” Lance pleads. “At least let her leave the city if her cousins don’t care. Let her go  _ home _ .”

“Not possible. The terms are set. Either the werewolves vacate the city, or the she-wolf remains with us,” his brother says business-like, before grinning devilishly. “I’m sure she’ll be quite fine in your very capable hands.”

Beside him, Pidge shakes with rage, her eyes full of tears. “I’m going to kill you,” she declares through a sob filled voice.  


“Threaten the Boss again and I’ll slap a silver collar on you like the dog you are,” Dimitri growls, taking a step forward.  


The Boss puts his hand out, bidding Dimitri to cease. “Keep her here, Lance. It will be much better for her health.”

They leave, locking the door behind them.  


Pidge shudders, a tiny whimper escaping from her lips. “What… the  _ quiznak _ was that? How can anymore be so… so…”

“Cruel?” Lance supplies, and he sighs when she gives him a confused look. “Look, the more detached a vampire is from society the worse they get. My brother hasn’t seen a mortal other than to feed for at least a few centuries. He’s nuts. I  _ know _ that.”

Of everything Lance expects Pidge might say or do, flopping back down onto the bed is not one of them. She doesn’t speak right away, just breathing, chest fluttering with the sobs she holds back. Lance keeps a hand on her back, lighting rubbing.

“I can’t just stay here,” she eventually says. “I might never get to leave. I do-don’t want to become a replenishing feast for your family.”

Lance has never felt so helpless. Not only can he not help her, he can’t comfort her that something like that won’t happen - because it absolutely could. He can’t even imagine how Pidge is feeling.  


So he just holds her, muttering a thousand apologies that don’t even come close to making things right.


	27. Beaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mermaid au, drowning

_ Lance surfaces with a small splash and slicks his dripping hair back from his face. “I’ll see you next summer, right?”   
_

_ It’s so comfortable here in the tide pools, where he’s spent all day and most of his summer. Even though the sun sets and the air and water cools his soaked clothes, he doesn’t want to leave. Because once he leaves the beach and retires to the summer mansion, he won’t see Pidge for a long time.   
_

_ The water is so clear here that Lance can see the brightly colored corals even from above the surface. Pidge swims playfully around him, her long green-scaled tail reaching up and splashing him. He turns too late, and wipes the water off with his equally wet hand while he laughs in delight. _

_ Pidge surfaces her head after that, giggling, a hopeful and excited smile on her face. “Papa says the area is perfect, so I think so! You’ll be back too, right?” _

_ Lance nods enthusiastically. “Of course! I turn thirteen next year and Father says it will be a good vacation before I start really helping at the market!” _

_ “Then let's make a promise,” Pidge says in her most serious voice. “We meet here again when the sun rises over the sea arch once more and I will show you all the things I’ve collected from the ocean during the winter.” _

_ “The first day of summer,” Lance confirms. He holds out his pinky finger. “I do solemnly swear I will be there!”   
_

_ Pidge smiles brilliantly, gasping, and takes her pinky in his. “The most sacred of human promises!” she squeals. “I will find you.” _

Lance never meets Pidge that next year. Pirates take his family’s fortune and they lose the summer mansion. Years later, Lance takes it upon himself to right the wrongs done against his family, while mourning the fact that he’ll never see his childhood friend again. He always hoped to return to the tide pools, to see if maybe she’d continued to return with her family… and beg her forgiveness for never keeping his promise.   


Just not like this.

A fist connects with his jaw, sending him down hard to the deck of the ship. An iron bar slams into his shoulder and Lance screams in pain when it aggravates the open wound already there.

Callous hands grab at him from all sides, forcing him to stand. “Forward, boy! We don’t got all day!”   


Uproarious laughter follows from the pirate crew as Lance stumbles forward onto the plank thanks to a generous push from the captain. He nearly falls off right then and there, his balance tampered with thanks to the rope around his wrists and arms and his mind dizzy and body sore from the repeated blows.

The waters aren’t as clear as they were when he was a child, but he knows the depth this far from the coast offers little chance of survival.   


The summer breeze is gentle, the sky cloudless, just like so many of the days that summer he spent at the beach. It doesn’t feel at all like it should be the last day of his life.   


Lance gulps, heart pounding unevenly. For the first time in his life, he is scared of the sea. He has always had a healthy respect for it, as it could give life and take it equally.  _ But this is different _ , he thinks as he stares into the abyss. The sea is not aggressive today, yet it will swallow him whole just the same.   


A gunshot rings out, startling Lance and nearly making him fall off.

The captain lowers his pistol from the shot he’d just fired straight into the air. His grin is cruel and mischievous as the crew behind him clamor for a front row view of the action.

“You’ve served time on my crew, noble brat, the least I can do is make your death a quick one,” he says in mock respect as he points the smoking pistol in Lance’s direction.   


“W-wait,” Lance protests - though his mind hardly feels organized enough to do so. “I swear I’m not part of the military. That badge is a keepsake from my sister!”

The captain sighs. “We can’t take chances, boy.”

He fires.

The captain always had been a bad shot.

The impact of the bullet pushes him off the plank and the searing pain in his shoulder distracts him from taking one last gulp of air before falling head first underwater.   


Lance opens his eyes and kicks. The splash has disturbed the water enough he can’t tell up from down and he has no idea if he’s kicking himself up or down. Spots cloud his vision much faster than he’d hoped and his lungs scream for air.   


Something rams into him. A shark perhaps? The blood would have attracted one already.   


Will he be dead by drowning or shark bite first?

Instead, an object touches his mouth and suddenly, inexplicably, air returns to him. And he breathes. Once. Twice. Three times.

His mind returns to him, and when he opens his eyes there is a conch by his lips. Beyond that, the most beautiful face he’s ever seen.   


She’s grown up just as he has. Lance always knew Pidge was pretty, but with an adult face and the fact that she’s saved his life makes her stunning.   


She holds him close between her arms. “You can explain why you took so long to keep your promise later. The sharks are already interested in your wound. I can heal it.”

Lance wishes he could tell her everything right then and there. Apologize, tell her what happened to his family… but right now he’s just grateful. So he nods, willingly placing his life in her hands. 


	28. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fantasy AU ft. dragon! Lance
> 
> pre-relationship/first meetings

Pidge wants to stop, utterly exhausted. Each step across the heavy, newfallen (and still falling) snow is more difficult than the next.   


The hem of her dress is soaked, adding weight that she must carry. Though objectively pretty, this dress does little in the way of keeping her warm for such a journey. The air is frigid, wind howling this far up the mountain. Each breath she takes is like a knife to her lungs. One step - she manages to lift her foot over into the next step. Two steps - she can only summon up the energy to drag her bare feet through the snow.  


_ Push _ .

She gasps sharply, a fresh wave of cold surging through her when she lands face first into the snow. It’s so… so  _ cold _ . Pidge doesn’t want to move, maybe she can stay here until she can cast a fire spell to warm her and oh quiznak  _ no _ , Pidge what are you thinking? You’ll die!

Being cut off from her magic is more numbing than the cold. Never in her memory has she ever been without its comforting, green spark. The inhibitor cuffs around her wrists are like an impenetrable wall around the fountain of her powers.

The hands that pushed her do not help her up.   


“This is close enough,” the gruffer of the two men says. “The dragon will find her or she’ll die from the elements.”

The dragon! She’s so numb she’d forgotten there was a  _ dragon _ up here! It’s not like she’d ever paid it much mind. Allura asked that no one ever came up here and Pidge had always figured a dragon living here was good enough reason not to come - cold notwithstanding!

“Good,” says the Prime Minister. The only joy Pidge takes in this is hearing him chatter his teeth, a far cry from his typically prim and proper speech. That’s what he gets for seeing to her demise himself. “I have had enough of this forsaken place. Leave Lady Holt here and let us return so that I can advise Queen Allura to war  _ without _ interference.”

Anger burns in her long enough to lift her head and move her lips. “Y-you qu-quiznaker…”

A mocking ‘tch’ escapes the Prime Minister’s lips as he kneels down beside her. “That kind of language is quite unbefitting a noble lady. Have a little bit of  _ grace _ in death, will you? For once in your life.”

Pidge can only shiver in response.

“Farewell. I’ll be sure to give a grand eulogy in your honor and commemorate your service to the crown.”

Pidge growls. “You leave Allura alone, you sna--”

She’s interrupted by a mouthful of snow.

The wind howls and if anything more is said, Pidge doesn't hear it.   


Snow still falls heavy as Pidge forces herself up. It's easier somehow, now that she can’t feel anything, though her body still protests. If she doesn’t find shelter, she will die here. Her family will have no idea what became of her and Allura will hear only the Prime Minister’s lies. The country’s welfare depends on her surviving this!

Thunder booms as Pidge looks around. There is nothing but white around her, she can hardly see the front of her face.   


Lightning strikes among the clouds and if Pidge had the energy to scream, she would have.   


As if a ghost, the large outline of what could only be a dragon looms over her, bright blue eyes focused in on her - the only detail she can make out.

The snow underneath her moves and so does she. Wet and stickiness around her body turns to the feeling of hard scales.   


Well, at least she’s warmer now.

~

Pidge wakes to the sound of a cracking fire. The blankets wrapped around her are warm, the mattress and pillows she lies on are soft and silky. She can feel her body again - every ache and pain from the long march up the mountain. But the bed is so comfortable she doesn’t want to move at all. She soaks in the calming presence of her magic spark that now flows freely through her body.

But… why is she warm?   


Why is she still alive?

Pidge compromises and opens her eyes. Before her is a large fireplace, though it's surrounded by uneven stone. Stroking the coals is the dragon, scales a soft blue, perfect for camouflage amongst the snow. His claw burns red from the heat, but it does not seem to bother him. Rather, he notices that she is awake.

She isn’t scared. Seeing him care for the fire - such a mundane and human action - sets her strangely at ease. Her magic bubbles with warmth, not at all worried over him.   


If not so tired, Pidge might have laughed at the way such a rumored fearsome beast scurried over to her.   


“You made it!” he says much more gleefully than Pidge ever expected a dragon to be. Behind his body, she can see his tail practically wagging. “I was hoping the herbs did the trick. How are you feeling?”

Pidge groans. She is not ready to be this upbeat. “Tired,” she says truthfully. “You saved me. Why?”

The dragon looks incredulous that she would even ask that, tiny finned ears perking up. “Because it's the right thing to do?” he asks - she hopes rhetorically - in a higher pitched tone. “What were you even doing up here and in that dress of all things? That is  _ not _ appropriate for this climate!”

Her instinct it to retort sarcastically back at him, but she’s still so exhausted, and perhaps it would be in bad taste to be angry at her savior.   


Instead, she works to sit up, first propping up on her elbows. “I was meant to die,” she says with a deep sigh. “Prime Minister Keircen doesn’t want me around.”

The dragon slumps backward. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’ is right.” With great effort she manages to sit up… though she gathers the blankets to cuddle. “I need to get back. He’s going to tell Allura that Daibazaal is ready to attack at any moment, which _ isn’t  _ true. There will be a war and  _ both _ countries will be ruined.”

The dragon, for his part, looks terribly sympathetic to a matter that doesn’t concern him. “Maybe, but it takes a long time to get down from the mountain and you are in no shape to make it on your own, let alone on my back.”

Though tired, Pidge’s mind is sharp enough she catches his offer. “You’d be willing to bring me home? Don’t dragons kidnap maidens and eat humans?”

He bristles. “Perhaps the more unsavory ones. That’s beneath me.” Narrowing his eyes, he extends his long neck and sticks his snout as close as he can without touching her. “You’re a part of Allura’s court - has she not even mentioned me? Good ol’ Lancey Lance?”

Pidge feels her eyebrows rise, fascination and confusion melding together. “No… how do  _ you _ know Allura… Lancey Lance?”

The dragons snorts, a puff of smoke coming from his nostrils as he pulls away. “It’s just Lance. I’ve known Allura since she was tiny. Someone tried to drop her at my doorstep like they did you. I brought her back and burned the castle.” He preens. “She knighted me for it.”

Pidge’s jaw drops, she hadn’t even been involved in court life but she remembered that fire and how everyone praised their young queen for coming back from the ashes. “Allura was  _ ten _ when that happened. That was your fault?”

Lance grins, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Magnificent, wasn’t it? Keith couldn’t make half as awesome a blaze if he  _ tried _ .”

Suddenly, Allura’s insistence that everyone stay away from the mountain made much more sense. It wasn’t out of fear of her past, it was so everyone would leave Lance alone.   


Pidge gapes, much to Lance’s presumed pleasure. Kind he may be, but he was just as vain as any dragon she’d seen.   


“I need to get back now,” she says after several moments. “I need to tell Allura--”

“Nah uh uh,” Lance says, wagging his claw. With more gentleness than she ever expected from such a large creature, he pushes her to lie back down on the bed. “You are still recovering. This guy sounds nasty, you won’t be any use if you’re not prepared to fight once you get home. You like garlic knots? I got some baking in the bread oven.”

Pidge’s rumbling stomach answers for her and Lance trots off.

It finally allows her a chance to look around. The room is a strange blend of human conveniences and a distinctly dragon feel. She lies in a human sized bed fit for a king and the fireplace roars across the way. Between are drippings of gold and silver treasures of all kinds.   


Lance has been nothing but benevolent so far, so Pidge has no reason not to trust his word that he will bring her home. Though… dragons are dragons. She can’t help but wonder if there might be a price for his kindness.   


In the meantime, she'll have to take his hospitality.   


At least, she feels safe enough to sleep some more. 


	29. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the third part that began with Chapter 10, and continued in Chapter 24
> 
> poor Pidge and Lance are just trying to hang in there
> 
> established relationship  
forced pregnancy  
humans as alien research subjects

Pidge screams and Lance holds her hand as tightly as he can.   


Seeing Pidge laid up on a hospital bed and in such pain scares him. Knowing her life is in the hands of Commander Livik and his team of physicians terrifies him.

The fact that he’s about to become a father sets him close to panic.   


“You’re doing great, Pidge,” he repeats, a bit louder this time. “You’ve got this.”

Livik’s given her nothing to manage the pain, says he wants to observe a natural human childbirth. There are cameras all over, recording every detail of the delivery inside this alien hospital room. Instead of IVs filled with blood, quintessence flows into Pidge as some kind of substitute.   


And as scared as Lance is, he knows Pidge is only coping with her fear due to the immense pain she’s in.   


Lance digs deep, trying to remember everything he can from when Lisa gave birth to Sylvio and Nadia. “Breathe, Pidge. Don’t forget to breathe. Breathe and push!”

They’ve been here for two years now, and they’ve had just shy of nine months to come to the reality that they’ll be parents in captivity and just over a year since Livik finally broke them both enough to get to this point. With no idea what they were doing and under calculated, watchful eyes their efforts bore the fruit that brought them to today.   


Pidge sobs, eyes shut tight. “I don’t want to do this!” She tries to roll onto her side, but one of the Galra physicians keeps her on her back.   


He feels so  _ helpless _ as Pidge suffers the bulk of the fear and pain. The very least he can do is support her.

“It’ll be over soon, Pidge. You’ve gotten this far, just a little bit longer,” Lance says, hoping the desperation in his voice gets drowned out by the encouragement. “You’re so strong, I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

She clings to his hand and gives him the smallest of smiles before throwing her head back and screaming, another contraction.   


That proved to be the final straw. Less than a dobosh later, a baby’s cry fills the room.  _ Their _ baby.   


Not caring about their captors around him, Lance kisses an exhausted Pidge on the forehead. “You were amazing, Pidge. I love you.” He takes the blue cloth that accents his prisoners uniform and wipes the sweat from her face, keeping it clear of her eyes.   


Tears still flow freely though the worst of the pain is behind her. “I want my mom,” she whispers. “I always thought she and Dad and Matt would be here for this.”

“I know,” Lance says softly, resting his forehead on hers. “My mom would be over the moon, and my niece would be standing on her toes to see how you’re doing.”

Pidge lets loose a short, sad laugh. “That sounds really nice.”

“The child is in good health.”

Lance takes a deep breath before looking up at Commander Livik, never letting go of Pidge’s hand.   


In Livik’s hands is the newborn, wailing.   


“I give her to you both to raise,” he says as if it were an order. “I expect more detailed notes on your daily lives from now on. I’d hate to waste such a nice sample.”

Livik places the baby on Pidge’s chest, and almost immediately she stops crying. Pidge places a hesitant and shaky hand on their daughter - _their_ _daughter_ \- and holds her loose but protectively.   


_ Sample _ . Lance feels so sick and as he clenches his fists, he wants nothing more than to whisk his family away right now. This little girl does not deserve to grow up as a science experiment.   


“Recover,” Livik tells Pidge. “And please write it in your journal soon so that I will have an accurate written record to go with the video footage. Once you are fit again, I want to try injecting the Galra DNA into your next fertile egg.” He turns to his lieutenant. “Hinek, escort them back to their suite once they’re ready.”

Lance gapes, fire burning under his skin in anger. He’s mentioned his future plans extensively, but it doesn’t mean he likes it or is used to it. There’s no use arguing it now, but he’s not going to let him wear her thin. “She just gave  _ birth _ ,” he hisses. “This isn’t just a ‘rest for a few minutes she’ll be fine’ type of thing.”

Instead of inflicting any punishing pain, Livik smiles knowingly. “Then I look forward to reading it in your journal. Do please make an effort to be honest, Paladin Lance. This is for prosperity after all.”

A chilling silence follows when Livik leaves and his lieutenant stands guard at the door, not even allowing them any sort of privacy.   


So he forces all the discomfort to the back of his mind to focus on the people who really need him.   


Carefully, he reaches out to stroke his daughter’s cheek. The baby fidgets but remains cuddled to Pidge. “She’s beautiful,” he tells Pidge. “Just like you.”

“I love her,” Pidge says quietly, eyes fixated on the newborn. “We  _ have _ to get out of here, Lance. I don’t know how much more of this I can take now that we’re raising a kid on top of it.”

Lance keeps a weathered eye on their guard, who simply narrows his eyes in warning.   


“Just rest,” he says noncommittally. When they’re back in their room and can speak in hushed tones to avoid the cameras he’ll reassure her that he will free them all. “You’re exhausted, Pidge. I’ll keep watch.”

Pidge’s concerning gaze flickers between him and the baby. “She needs a name.”

Leaning forward gently, he places a kiss on Pidge’s forehead. He forces himself to smile for her, because the situation as a whole is killing him. “After you nap. I promise. She’ll have the most amazing name ever.”

Pidge lets of a short laugh. “Something Paladin worthy?” She rolls her eyes. “I bet Livik would love that.”

Lance smiles, the first genuine one he’s felt in a while. “Something from Earth, of course. So she’ll know she has a real home there.”

“Yeah… that’d be nice,” Pidge sighs, her head lolling across the pillow and closer to him. “You’ll keep watch?”

“I’ll wake you at the first sign Livik is back,” Lance promises, sealing it with a kiss on the back of her hand.   


Closing her eyes, Pidge sleeps, with the most peaceful expression on her face that he’s seen since arriving here. While she snores lightly, Lance turns his attention to the baby on her chest.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re safe, sweetheart,” he promises. “I swear I’ll do everything I can to make sure you get to meet the rest of your family. So you can meet your cousins, your aunts and uncles and grandpas and grandmas.” Lance swallows hard. He misses them fiercely and knowing they aren’t safe as long as Zarkon is emperor of the universe scares him every day. “They are gonna love you so much.”

Deep in his heart he knows he can’t really promise her safety as a prisoner. But he also equally knows that he will do anything for this little girl. So he will find a way to get her and Pidge out of here, so Pidge won’t have to suffer Livik’s experiments anymore.

If he’s with them, great. Lance wants nothing more than a bright future where they all live together on Earth in peace.   


He is prepared not to be if it assures their freedom.


	30. Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last installment of whumptober and the fourth and final in a series that began with 'Stitches', continued with 'Humiliation' and then 'Recovery'.
> 
> genetic manipulation  
forced pregnancy  
established plance (before all this mess started)

The ship shakes violently, throwing Pidge off balance as the two of them ran down the corridor. Lance is behind her, catching both Pidge and the baby she holds so that they don’t slam into the wall.   


Not to mention protecting the nearly grown child in her womb.   


“The hanger where they’re keeping Blue should be right around the corner,” Pidge pants, breathing heavily.   


Lance takes a deep breath, holding Pidge tightly and resting his forehead on the back of her head. Just a moment of rest.   


No time. A tick later Pidge pushes off and continues the run - wobble really, with how heavily pregnant she is.

“If the logs are up to date,” Lance groans as he catches up to her. “Need me to take her?”

“No, just concentrate on reaching out to the Blue Lion,” Pidge responds quickly, her eyes darting all around on the lookout for their guards, adjusting her hold on the baby. “Livik is meticulous, I’m sure they’re up to date, but we can’t take any chances.”

Lance  _ tries _ to concentrate, he does, but it's difficult between their daughter’s wailing and the alarms going off all around them. They have to take advantage of the commotion outside. They don’t know who is attacking for sure, but the two of them have a wordless agreement - a hope - that it can’t be anyone other than their friends who may or may not know they are here.

_ Come on girl, please. I need you _ , he begs.  _ This is our only chance - Green’s probably so worried for Pidge. She’s gonna have this second kid any day now. If we don’t escape now, we’re stuck. _

For the first time in over two years, a gentle rumble purrs in the back of his mind. All at once, Lance sees blue tendrils of energy stringing along the floor - a guide.   


Surging with hope, he grabs Pidge’s shoulders, stopping her before a corridor. “This way!” is all he has time to say.   


They run right instead of left - away from the hangars. Pidge doesn’t even double check if he knows what he’s doing, she only runs faster. Her trust in him gives Lance a new kind of strength and determination that they will get out of here.

Reaching a locked door, Pidge slams a hand on the control panel. It reminds Lance of yet another reason why they have to take advantage of the firefight outside. While Pidge is still pregnant with a child with Galra DNA, she can go anywhere on this ship.   


The door opens and there in a secret hangar that was definitely not in the blueprints, is the Blue Lion. Lance is overwhelmed with a sense of comfort and reassurance, like waves on the ocean that were more fun for boogie boarding than overly choppy. Pidge greets his smile with one of her own, her eyes filled with happy tears.   


“I was hoping the two of you would find this place. You Paladins do not disappoint.”

Commander Livik stands between them and the Blue Lion.   


Pidge chokes back a sob, and Lance hates that her happy smile was so short lived. “Haven’t you tormented us enough? Leave us alone!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Paladin Katie,” Livik says gracefully. Lance knows better, the tone chills him to the bone. “I can’t let such a lovely family go while you still have so much to show me.”

Lance is vindicated when Livik produces a blaster from his side. “Both of you back to your room. This fight will cease shortly and the research will resume as before.”

“No,” Lance blurts out before he can think. He lifts his fists, taking a step in front of Pidge, refusing to let this chance go to waste. “You won’t touch her ever again.”

Pidge has suffered and he won’t stand for it any longer, not when they’re so close to freedom.

Livik grins and has the audacity to laugh. “I’m not the one who will be touching her, Paladin Lance. I believe that’s all you.”

Lance sees red. Then blue - a flash of it. As if he’d never parted from it, Lance raises the blue bayard in its blaster form (how it came to be in his possession he doesn’t know and doesn’t care) and shoots.

The expression on Livik’s face is near priceless, his eyes widening in surprise at Lance’s sudden weapon, before dropping limply to the ground. Lance himself can hardly process what just happened, but Pidge’s tug on his arm drags him to the present.   


“Blue!” Lance yells as the force field goes down, he and Pidge not missing a beat in their run towards Blue’s open and inviting mouth. “We need to find Green and the others! Let’s get out of here!”

They don’t look back to even see if Livik is dead.   


Blue has two seats waiting for them. Lance takes the pilot’s seat and Pidge the one behind it, whispering reassurances to the small child in her arms. Lance gulps and doesn’t relax until they’ve exited the battle cruiser.   


It’s a beautiful sight to behold both the Yellow Lion and the Red Lion attacking Livik’s ship, he wants to cry - their friends  _ came for them _ . Lance grips the throttle tight, the rush and thrill of being in the pilot’s seat returning. He funnels all the rage he has into a beam cannon, firing at their former prison.   


“ _ Lance _ !” A view screen pops up on his left, showing the first friendly face he and Pidge have seen in years. “You’re okay and--” Hunk gasps, grinning excitedly. “ _ Pidge is with you too _ ?”

“It’s good to see you too, Hunk,” Pidge says, her voice tired - this second pregnancy was depleting her energy faster than the first, and all that running hadn’t helped. “Really good.”

“ _ Keith. Keith! Pidge was with Lance! _ ”

Yes, he’s not ashamed to admit he missed Keith too as he pops up on another screen.   


“ _ Are you two okay? Is the Green Lion with you _ ?” Keith asks, getting to the point.   


“As fine as we can be,” Lance tells him.   


“I left Green hidden on the planet I originally found her,” Pidge adds. “Where’s Shiro?”

Keith scowls, looking distinctly like he isn’t ready to answer the question.  _ “Still missing. So’s Allura, Coran, and the Castle. We’ll follow your lead. Let’s get the Green Lion and go from there. _ ”

With that, he cuts off.   


Hunk is sobbing, still on the line. “ _ I missed you guys so much. I’m giving you both a hug as soon as we land _ .”

Pidge grins, making the briefest of eye contact with him to share in this little joke. “Better get three hugs ready.”   


Lance can’t help but be relieved. If Pidge can joke about including the kids with the team, then perhaps they’ll both heal enough to defeat Zarkon once and for all.   


“ _ Wait, three? I mean, always - but why? _ ”

“We’ll see you planetside, Hunk,” Lance says brightly before cutting off communication. “Think you can lead us to the Green Lion, Girl?”

Blue roars in affirmation. Visions of a forested and lush planet run through his mind.

Once underway, Lance turns to face Pidge. Their daughter is less fussy now as Pidge rocks her, making Lance’s heart melt.   


“I don’t want them to have to go through what we did,” Lance starts.   


“Me neither,” Pidge agrees. Her eyes remain locked on the baby. “I always kinda hoped I might have kids someday, a big family like what I had growing up.” She slumps back into the chair. “I just never imagined it would be like this.”

A knot twists in his stomach. If only he had done more. Would Livik really have invaded Earth if they… hadn’t had the kids?

“I’m not blaming you, Lance,” she says before he can speak. “It’s Livik’s fault and he’s gotten what he deserved. You did everything right.”

“Quiznak, Pidge. I feel awful. I--”

“If it wasn’t you, Livik would have found a way,” Pidge says firmly. Her glare leaves no room for argument. “I’d pick you for the father every time over a random gene pool.” She looks away, almost ashamed. “Even though neither of us could do anything, I felt  _ safe _ with you there.”

With Blue on autopilot, Lance gently sits on the edge of the seat with Pidge, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I’ll never let you be in a position like that ever again. I swear.”

“You can’t promise that,” she whispers. “We’re still both Paladins and we have a lot of work to do.”

“I don’t care,” he says desperately into her hair. “I don’t think I could live with myself otherwise.”

“Don’t you dare think like that. Even if something happens to me,” she looks down with a sad sigh, baby resting contently. “You’ll have these two to look after.” Pidge raises stern eyes to meet him. “Swear you’ll do that instead.”

Lance rubs a thumb softly over the baby’s growing head of hair, dark brown like his. She looks so much like his niece already. “Now who’s being self-sacrificial,” he retorts lightly. “I love you, Pidge, and I’ll do everything to make sure we’re all alive and back on Earth in the end.”

Pidge leans back onto his chest with a content smile. “That promise I can handle.”

Lance holds her for all he’s worth, wanting this comforting moment to override all the terrible things that have happened to them over the last three years. They have only the future to look forward to now, and with their friends now with them, it looks very bright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober is done!! I'm super proud of myself for managing to do this! I went into it thinking maybe I'd get half of them done. Thank you discord server for fueling my creativity and keeping engaged, I don't think I would have finished otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/)!


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